In The End
by cherrycola69
Summary: Sequel to “Mine” DH. Draco’s changed. When Harry notices that, things begin to spiral out of control. A battle between desire and duty ensues.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer- None of the characters or places belong to me. It's all J K Rowling's.  
  
Rating - R  
  
A/N - Sequel to "Mine" (You have to read that first to understand any of it).  
  
'Harry wake up.' A hand shook me and I swatted it away, rolling over.  
  
I heard an impatient sigh. 'Harry mate will you just get up already? Hermione's going to kill us if we're not down in the common room in three minutes.'  
  
There was a pause in which I buried my face deeper into the pillow.  
  
'Harry!' Ron shouted in exasperation. 'Will you wake the fuck up or I'm going to tell Hermione that you kept us all awake last night moaning Snape's name and telling him to take his tutu off.'  
  
All this was delivered at the sound level of a blazing dragon.  
  
Everyone in our dorm room was looking at him in astonishment.  
  
Wide-awake, I blinked innocently at him. 'There's no need to shout Ron. '  
  
He half glared at me. 'It was either that or a bucket of freezing cold water.'  
  
'Have I ever told you what a good shouter you are?' I said in a saccharine sweet voice. 'You're going to rival Mione soon.'  
  
Ron shuddered. 'Alright I'll never shout again- just don't condemn me to a fate worse than death.'  
  
'I'm going to tell her you said that.' I offered him a mischievous grin.  
  
'Yeah well you won't be able to if you're not ready in the next two minutes cuz she's going to be so busy shouting at us for being late.'  
  
I shot out of bed, a blur of motion.  
  
A lecture from Hermione was not how I wanted to start my day.  
  
Precisely a forty five seconds later I spun back around to Ron. 'There!' I panted triumphantly. 'Ready.'  
  
He was looking quite stunned. 'Wow. If I knew that was going to have that effect on you I would have said it years ago.'  
  
'Shut up!' I stifled a yawn as we walked down the stairs.  
  
He grinned at me.  
  
The common room was bustling as people waited for friends, did homework or generally ran round doing chicken impressions.  
  
Or at least Fred and George ran round doing chicken impressions.  
  
'Have you revised for that test?' Ron asked as we sat down.  
  
Test?  
  
What test?  
  
'No me either.' Ron said, at my blank look. 'And it's one and two as well so we can only revise during breakfast.'  
  
One and two- what did we have one and two?  
  
I groaned. 'Potions.'  
  
'How could you forget?' Ron said unenthusiastically.  
  
'I wonder if M-'  
  
'Don't say it!' Ron yelled suddenly.  
  
'Hmph?' I asked, confused.  
  
'Don't mention him.'  
  
I frowned. 'What?'  
  
'Don't talk about Malfoy. I don't want to know whether he's going to be in the lesson or not- I'm happy believing he's not. I'm sick and bloody tired of everybody talking about him.'  
  
Ron flopped down onto the sofa with a sigh. 'It's Malfoy this and Malfoy that and-'  
  
'Did you hear about Malfoy?' One of the girls whispered confidentially to another (in an extremely unconfidential volume). 'I heard he hasn't come out of his room in a week.' 'Well *I* heard that he attacked Professor Snape when he went to check on him.'  
  
'Well I heard that-'  
  
Ron turned back to me in disbelief. 'See!'  
  
I hid a smile.  
  
'If one more person even *mentions* that gits name-' He began.  
  
'Hermione!' I exclaimed, relieved to see her as she walked up towards us.  
  
She was the one person in all of Hogwarts (with the exception of Ron) who would 100% absolutely without a doubt not talk about Malfoy as she would consider it trivial gossip.  
  
She sat down next to us. 'Did you hear about Malfoy?'  
  
Ron began to turn purple.  
  
'Are you alright Ron?' Concern lit her features up.  
  
'Peachy.' He ground out.  
  
Alright I could have been wrong - perhaps even Hermione wasn't except from gossip this interesting.  
  
'Oh ok then. Anyway Seamus just told me that Malfoy's father was killed by You-Know-Who and their house was attacked by Death Eaters because he'd been leaking information to Dumbledore.  
  
'Bollocks.' It slipped out before I could help it.  
  
'What makes you say that?'  
  
The fact that Malfoy told me his father had committed suicide because the aurors were going to arrest him whilst we were having a nice little cosy chat in the middle of the night.  
  
Oh yeah why don't I just tell them that.  
  
I shrugged, trying to be desperately vague. 'Well it's Seamus isn't it?'  
  
'True.'  
  
'Now that we've finished this enthralling conversation about Ferret Boy is there any way we could go to breakfast?' Ron asked impatiently, his stomach audibly growling.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Is that all you think about?'  
  
Ron considered it for a second. 'Yes.'  
  
A small smile spread across her face. 'Well let's go then.'  
  
Hermione and I trailed behind Ron, who seemed to be walking as quickly as he possibly could.  
  
'Ron do you have to go so fast?' Hermione gasped as we half-ran to keep up with him.  
  
'Yes!' He exclaimed. 'Or else Seamus'll eat all the bacon.'  
  
Hermione sighed in relief as we arrived at the hall.  
  
'Thank God.'  
  
'Mione have you got your Potions book on you?' I asked, suddenly remembering about the test.  
  
I didn't want to give Snape anymore reasons to take points away from Gryffindor.  
  
'Oh Harry haven't you revised??' Hermione asked in disappointed horror.  
  
'Uhh. Maybe I shouldn't answer that.'  
  
'I'll take that as a no then.'  
  
Ron was so busy trying to see if there was any bacon left that he didn't see the blonde figure heading towards him.  
  
And neither did the blonde figure.  
  
As I watched they ran straight into each other, barely escaping being floored.  
  
'Watch it!' He snapped.  
  
'Watch it yourself Malfoy.' Ron retorted.  
  
Oh great.  
  
Malfoy had been back less than a minute and they were fighting already.  
  
'Then again I guess your nose was so high up in the air you missed seeing any of us lesser mortals.' Ron scowled at him.  
  
He opened his mouth to retort and then stopped, staring at me in shock.  
  
The colour drained slowly from his face and his mouth closed slowly.  
  
Wondering if this was some sort of new tactic I watched him with a furrowed brow.  
  
He turned around and fled.  
  
We stared after him in shocked silence.  
  
'Uhmm.what exactly just happened?' I asked confusedly.  
  
'I'm not completely sure.' Hermione frowned. 'It's not like him to do that.'  
  
'Understatement of the century.' I muttered.  
  
'Do you think he's upset about his father?' Hermione asked.  
  
'Whatever it is I hope it lasts.' Ron said cheerfully. 'I think I like this Malfoy better.'  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes slightly. 'Honestly Ron. How can you think like that? His father's just died!'  
  
'Yeah his father who wanted Harry dead and would have killed him if he hadn't snuffed it first.' Ron took a bite from the muffin in his hand.  
  
'Do you think he's ok?' I asked suddenly.  
  
'Who cares?' Ron looked at me like I was mad. 'We just got one over Malfoy more easily than we ever have done before.'  
  
'That's what's bothering me.' The words slipped accidentally from my lips.  
  
A pair of eyes turned to me in alarm.  
  
'I mean-' I stuttered, kicking myself inwardly, 'well it's not as fun goading him when he doesn't fight back.'  
  
'Uhh.sure.' Ron said doubtfully through a mouthful of muffin.  
  
I frowned, feeling very confused all of a sudden.  
  
'I guess.' I murmured.  
  
***  
  
I made very certain to turn up early to Potions, I didn't need to be late as well as fail the test.  
  
Having had a look at what we had to know, I knew that I didn't know it.  
  
Not that that was anything unusual but still.  
  
Snape silently handed the papers out, giving me a look reminiscent to that of a constipated hippogriff.  
  
'You have an hour.' He announced. 'Begin.'  
  
He turned with a swirl of his robes.  
  
I glared at him.  
  
Smarmy git.  
  
I took a deep breath, turning to the first page.  
  
Q1. Where do you find-  
  
~I wonder where Malfoy is. He looked really upset I hope he's ok.~  
  
I blinked in surprise at my thoughts. Why did I care?  
  
This was Malfoy the bane of my existence.  
  
~Who I managed to have a perfectly civil conversation with.not even just civil.enjoyable.~  
  
I was drunk. I'd been drunk whilst talking to Malfoy.  
  
That didn't count right?  
  
Or at least it better not do because if Ron ever found out he was going to absolutely murder me.  
  
But even if he was the bane of my existence that didn't mean that I couldn't feel sorry for him.  
  
I mean his father *was* dead after all.  
  
And I knew only too well how it felt to lose parents.  
  
I snuck a look over at his empty chair, kicking myself even as I did it.  
  
Ugh! That git was invading my head and I was going to fail this test because of him!  
  
Desperately I turned back to the paper.  
  
Q1. Where do you find the sanguina lexa and what are it's uses? Divide your answer into paragraphs ordered on its medical, emotional and magical uses.  
  
What the hell was the sanguina lexa?  
  
I felt a vague feeling of panic.  
  
Maybe I should try question 2.  
  
Q2. Describe the colour, thickness and smell of a light sensitivity potion?  
  
Oh crap.  
  
I flicked through the paper, my feeling of horror growing with every question I looked at.  
  
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.  
  
~OK. Calm down. If you don't know the answer make something up. ~  
  
I decided to take my own advice and hastily began making up answers.  
  
But somewhere around question 6 Malfoy invaded my head again.  
  
That haunted look in his eyes lingered in my mind.  
  
It was a familiar expression.  
  
I saw it everytime I looked in the mirror.  
  
It was a look of guilt. A look that said that somebody was dead because of you.  
  
But surely Malfoy wouldn't think his father had died because of him?  
  
I frowned.  
  
'Mr Potter?' A voice snapped.  
  
I jerked my head upwards, meeting Snape's angry gaze.  
  
'Your paper?' He held out his hand expectantly.  
  
Oh shit. My paper.  
  
Panic ran through me and I handed him the half-finished paper.  
  
I should write a book called ten easy ways to fail potions.  
  
Actually only one step was needed - 'Become Harry Potter' 


	2. Chapter 2

OK here's chapter 2  
  
~Draco~  
  
Shit.  
  
I closed the door to my room behind me, my heart racing in panic.  
  
That had not been good.  
  
That had been the exact reason I had not left my room in a week.  
  
Him.  
  
The him that wasn't dead.  
  
I'd been both dreading and longing for the moment when I saw him.  
  
The moment when my breath would catch in my throat because he was alive.  
  
The moment where I'd thank god that I hadn't messed this reality up as well.  
  
The moment where I'd realise that nothing had changed.  
  
And when I had seen him my breath *had* caught in my throat because he'd looked so much like my Harry that it hurt inside.  
  
And the second our eyes had met, every memory I'd been trying to hold back flooded through me.  
  
Suddenly all I could focus on was memories of him kissing me, loving me.  
  
And then as I met his eyes all I could picture was the look of betrayal in them when I turned his own wand on him, his body falling lifelessly to the floor.  
  
I rushed to the toilet, throwing up the little I'd managed to eat at breakfast.  
  
I couldn't do this.  
  
I really couldn't.  
  
Now I'd seen him I knew I couldn't pretend that nothing had happened.  
  
It had changed me more that anybody could imagine and now I couldn't just walk away.  
  
The guilt was eating away at me. It was destroying me.  
  
I felt like I had to make up for what I had done- I had to somehow balance the scales. I'd killed Harry in one world so in this world- I'd have to save him.  
  
And I knew just how to do that.  
  
Within minutes I was climbing the stairs to Dumbledore's office.  
  
He had told me the password in case I wanted to talk to him - though I wasn't completely sure that this is what he wanted to talk about - then again knowing Dumbledore it might have been.  
  
'Ah Mr Malfoy.' Dumbledore greeted me jovially as I stepped into his office. 'I've been expecting you. Lemon sherbet?'  
  
'Uhh. thankyou.' I replied hesitantly, taking one, not wanting to get on his bad side when I needed his help so badly.  
  
'You wish to talk to me?'  
  
'Uhh yes actually.'  
  
I followed him to his desk, almost jumping in shock when I saw Snape sitting in a chair in front of it.  
  
Having seen me, Snape stood up.  
  
'Severus it may be better if you leave.' Dumbledore told Snape.  
  
'No.' I licked my lips nervously. 'I'd rather he stayed. He needs to know this too.'  
  
'As you wish.' Dumbledore nodded.  
  
Snape sank back into the chair, looking both intrigued and worried.  
  
I hesitated, wondering how I was going to put this. 'My father was a Death Eater - I imagine you already know that. He brought me up to believe that what he was doing was right. And I believed him.'  
  
I picked at my sleeves. 'At least I did for a long time. I was supposed to become a Death Eater - there was never any question about that. It wasn't what I wanted but I could see no way out of it.'  
  
I searched back in my memories to what felt like a lifetime ago.  
  
'The night my father died he sent me a letter.'  
  
Dumbledore's eyes had lost their twinkle and his face was serious.  
  
'He's arranged for me to get the Dark Mark on Christmas Day.'  
  
Images welled up in my brain of a leering skull slowly burning into my arm and I shuddered.  
  
'Draco.' Snape knelt by me. 'You don't have to be afraid. The headmaster and I can protect you from-'  
  
'Severus.' Dumbledore said quietly. 'I do not think a way out is what Mr Malfoy is here to seek.'  
  
Realisation dawned in my teacher's eyes.  
  
'Is that correct Mr Malfoy?' Dumbledore asked gently.  
  
I swallowed, trying to find my voice. 'Yes.'  
  
'Draco.' Snape's voice was full of concern. 'I don't think you understand the gravity of this situation. This is not a task to be undertaken lightly.'  
  
'I know.' I said softly.  
  
'You're upset about your father's death. I don't think you've had enough time to properly think this through.'  
  
'Maybe he's had more *time* than you think Severus.'  
  
My head snapped up and I meet Dumbledore's eyes with a feeling of horror.  
  
In them was a knowledge I wished there wasn't.  
  
'You-you know?' I stammered.  
  
'Mr Malfoy what kind of headmaster would I be if I couldn't tell when one of my students used magic that powerful.'  
  
Not to mention illegal.  
  
Snape looked at us both in bewilderment.  
  
'Are you-are you,' I forced myself to stop stuttering, 'are you going to expel me?'  
  
'I think you have punished yourself enough now Mr Malfoy. What you are offering to do shows me that clearly.'  
  
'Then,' I took a deep breath, 'you know what my conditions are?'  
  
'I can guess. But I would rather prefer to hear them from you.'  
  
'I don't want him to know about what I'm doing.'  
  
'Mr Malfoy I'm sure you understand that-'  
  
'Yes. I know you might have to tell him that I'm a spy. I can accept that. But he must *never* know why. Never. I don't care if my life is at stake but he must never know.'  
  
Dumbledore regarded me seriously. 'Of course Mr Malfoy. Harry will never know.'  
  
'Potter?' Snape exploded. 'Potter is the reason you are willing to put your life at stake by keeping this a secret??'  
  
I kept my eyes glued to the floor.  
  
'He's the reason I'm doing this at all.' I whispered faintly, not knowing why I was telling him this.  
  
Realisation dawned on his face, swirled with horror.  
  
'What did I do?' He groaned. 'Was I such a bad godfather to you that you had to repay me by this?'  
  
My lips twitched and despite myself I felt a snicker escape them.  
  
The hilarity was only increased by the fact he was serious.  
  
I struggled to keep a straight face.  
  
'Severus.' Dumbledore's amusement took away the edge of his reproach.  
  
'I'm sorry Albus but-' he struggled to find the words, turning instead to me. 'I forbid it! I absolutely forbid you to get the Dark Mark to help protect Potter!'  
  
Oh damn here came that urge to laugh again.  
  
'Severus.' Dumbledore repeated.  
  
'Draco there is absolutely no need for you to get the Dark Mark.' Snape continued. 'I know what it's like. And I do not want you to go through that. I know what it's like to be a spy- I am one!'  
  
'I know.' I replied calmly.  
  
'Oh.' He frowned.  
  
'And so does Voldemort.'  
  
The room filled with silence.  
  
'What?' Snape asked, stunned.  
  
'Voldemort knows that there is a traitor and he knows who it is. You have no choice. It's me or nobody.'  
  
'Shit.' Snape swore.  
  
'I think Mr Malfoy has made his point Severus?' Dumbledore looked at him through his glasses.  
  
Snape sat down numbly, my revelation taking all his furore away.  
  
I sighed. 'I know it will be difficult - but I can cope with it. I want to help. And this is the best way I can do.'  
  
Dumbledore nodded. 'Too true Mr Malfoy. But if you change your mind-'  
  
'I won't.' I said simply.  
  
'If you do.' Snape snapped. 'You must tell us immediately. We can prevent your initiation from taking place if you ask us to do. Once you are a spy there is no going back on it.'  
  
'I know. But you have to trust me when I say that I've made my mind up. I won't change my mind.'  
  
The sincerity in my voice rang clear and true and I could see acceptance flicker in Dumbledore's eyes.  
  
'Mr Malfoy have you heard of the Order of the Phoenix?'  
  
I nodded. 'Yes sir.'  
  
'There are a few members of it who will not believe that you are truly on our side. I may have to tell them your reasons.'  
  
I frowned, wondering whether Harry was included in that.  
  
'Mr Potter is not one of them.' Dumbledore said kindly, his eyes sympathetic.  
  
Relief swept over me.  
  
'Nonetheless I would like your permission.'  
  
Oh God that would be horrible.  
  
A load of random wizards knowing my innermost thoughts and desires.  
  
Talk about the ultimate embarrassment.  
  
But if it helped to make up for what I did.  
  
'Whatever it takes to convince them.' I said quietly.  
  
'I'm sorry to ask you this but it may be better if they see it themselves.' He handed me a small penseive.  
  
I swallowed, remembering another time in another place when I'd been given a penseive.  
  
'If you don't feel up to it then I'm sure I-'  
  
'No.' I interrupted. 'I'll do it.'  
  
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled slightly as he looked at me. 'It requires a great strength of character to do what you truly believe is right Mr Malfoy. And I do trust that you have that strength.'  
  
'Thankyou sir.' I said quietly.  
  
'I shall send you a message concerning the next meeting of the Order.'  
  
I nodded silently, assuming I was dismissed as he returned to his work.  
  
I turned and walked from the room, hesitating at the door.  
  
'Sir?'  
  
'Yes Mr Malfoy?' Dumbledore didn't seem at all surprised I hadn't left.  
  
'How much do you know about what happened?'  
  
There was a small pause. 'I'll put it this way Mr Malfoy- had you gone to see the Dumbledore from the other world you may have found he was no different from myself.'  
  
'Do you know what I had to do?' I whispered.  
  
'I have a very good idea Mr Malfoy.'  
  
'I'm sorry.' My voice trembled.  
  
'Don't apologise Mr Malfoy- at least not to me. It is not my forgiveness that you want.'  
  
No. He was right.  
  
The only person who could forgive me was Harry.  
  
And truthfully.  
  
I didn't deserve forgiveness.  
  
  
  
  
  
Ok I know it's terrible  
  
But I'm eye deep in exams and I have writers block  
  
Plus I'm writing another story which seems to be occupying all my creative thought.  
  
Please review and tell me what you think 


	3. Chapter 3

Dear God how long has it been? In fact I was beginning to think that I'd never continue this story and was considering writing one of those little 'Sorry but the story's cancelled' letters.  
  
But seeing the PoA film changed my mind and inspired me to perhaps get round to writing something.  
  
So here it is! The new chapter of In the End.  
  
I seem to be unable to think like Harry at the moment so you've got another Draco instead. In fact I think I'm going to write mainly Draco but add a Harry POV every once in a while.  
  
In fact it's a miracle that any chapters will be written because I really thought that I'd forgotten the plot (who knows? I may have done)  
  
So please enjoy and remember to review.  
  
  
  
  
  
Draco  
  
This certainly was the most surreal lunch time I had ever experienced (in this reality anyway – lunchtimes with Harry in the other reality had often been...well surreal doesn't even begin to cover it).  
  
Summoned to my first meeting of the Order of the Phoenix I was then ordered (ordered! Can you believe it? Ordered!!) to wait outside the door to Dumbledore's inner office for what was now close to an hour.  
  
Now time is a valuable thing, especially when that time would otherwise involve eating, and you haven't so much as licked food since the previous night. So, suffice to say . . . I was not happy.  
  
Obviously Dumbledore felt that it would be far less upsetting and humiliating for me to wait outside the door than watch my memories. Load of crap if you ask me, I had after all lived through it and so the odds of me being upset by it, any more than I already was, were slim. Plus at least if I watched it I would know exactly what to be embarrassed about. The possibilities for mortification were endless and my mind came up with a new one every three seconds.  
  
With that thought in mind I positioned my ear to the crack between the door and the door frame expecting to hear my memories. I was met with silence and with a frown I realised that Dumbledore had placed a silencing charm on the door.  
  
Thanks. Thanks a lot for that.  
  
Eventually I settled for pressing my nose against the door as though I could see through it; as though I could watch my total and thorough humiliation as they watched everything I had experienced.  
  
They were all probably sitting there with buckets of popcorn watching it like it was some Muggle film. Loudly crunching during the best parts and spoiling it for everyone else.  
  
_I am so weird._   
  
Oh. Crap.  
  
I felt myself pale. There was one tiny fact that I'd forgotten.  
  
Was it in any way possible that if they saw me lusting after, shagging and generally being in love with Potter that they wouldn't notice that I'm gay?  
  
I banged by head against the door slightly, desperately wanting to hit it a whole lot harder but not wanting to disturb the people inside.  
  
Actually, what the hell, I was only going to disturb them from my memories and truthfully I didn't care. Anything they missed they could get straight from the horses mouth. As long as they didn't ask any questions about Harry, me, Harry, my father, Harry, Voldemort, Harry or my motivation to swap sides anyway.  
  
Uhmm. . . maybe I wouldn't dash my brains out on the door after all.  
  
But really . . . what a way to come out. Especially to a load of people I didn't even know. Especially to a load of people who worshipped the air that Harry Potter deigned to breathe.  
  
_Yeah cause I can't count myself in that group now can I? The word 'hypocritical' doesn't even begin to cover it._   
  
Lost in my thoughts I didn't notice the door opening and hence had to dispel an awful lot of energy attempting not to fall on my ass. It was not the sort of impression I wanted to make during my first meeting with the Order.  
  
"Mr Malfoy," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily, obviously well aware of my attempts to eavesdrop. "Would you care to come in."  
  
At that moment in time my internal answer sounded suspiciously like 'no' but the opposite sentiment escaped my mouth.  
  
I stepped into his office, feeling suddenly awkward as a sea of faces turned to look at me.  
  
Several were unfamiliar but others I knew very well. My eyes flickered around the room taking note of every face.  
  
Remus Lupin. Not a bad guy (though you wouldn't have known that that was my view by the way I'd treated him).  
  
Hermione Granger. Oh Gods. I instantly looked at the person next to her, praying it wasn't Potter. To my relief, Potter's figure was not the one I saw. Instead it was someone who looked awfully like Sirius Black.  
  
My eyes widened as I realised that the Sirius Black lookalike was indeed Sirius Black. Oh well guess that was the reason why Peter Pettigrew had been looking so nervous recently. Not only was the infamous Sirius Black out to get him, but probably the Order of the Phoenix and Harry Potter himself.  
  
Never did like the man much anyway.  
  
"Draco is our newest recruit." Dumbledore stated, cheerfully offering me a plate of biscuits which I politely declined. "Does everyone agree to his initiation to the Order?"  
  
Way to go Dumbledore. Nothing like just coming out and asking the obvious. Why had I just used the phrase 'coming out'?? Even if it was just in my head it signalled trouble.  
  
The faces displayed a thousand mixed reactions, some outwardly hostile to the idea.  
  
"Does anybody have a problem?" Dumbledore asked calmly, as though he was unaware of the tension.  
  
"He's Lucius Malfoy's son." Well of course, Black would be the one to speak out.  
  
Perhaps it was time for me to defend myself instead of letting Dumbledore do it for me. "Yes I am. And would you kindly remember Black that we are actually related... by blood. Don't trust me; don't trust yourself ok? Besides" I folded my arms moodily, sadly aware that I looked like a petulant child, "my father's dead so that excuse is completely invalid."  
  
"Mr Malfoy has a point Sirius." Dumbledore chastised gently, ignoring Black's glower. "Your doubts are unfounded."  
  
I fought the urge to stick my tongue out at Black in triumph, restraining only because you really couldn't blame the poor guy for feeling a bit disturbed after watching me and his godson at it like bunnies.  
  
A stab of pain shot through me at the thought of Harry and I attempted to push away the aching guilt, trying to pay attention to the meeting.  
  
"For any of you who still doubt Mr Malfoy's true intentions I think I will give him a task that will dispel all of your reservations. Draco?" he seemed to be seeking my permission and I nodded with slight reservation.  
  
A task? What did he want me to do? Fight Voldemort single handedly? Wrestle Sirius Black?  
  
Was it too late to take back the nod???  
  
"Fawkes." A beautiful phoenix appeared in the room at Dumbledore's call.  
  
Oh ok this didn't look so bad.  
  
"As you all know, Fawkes is able to sense those whose intentions towards the Order are true. His reaction to Mr Malfoy's presence should reflect Mr Malfoy's objectives."  
  
The bird landed on my left shoulder, its colourful fountains of feathers brushing my cheek.  
  
Ha take that Mr Sirius 'let's get rid of Draco before we even give him a chance' Black.  
  
As I turned to glance at the bird on my shoulder a tear fell from its eye, a crystal which reflected a kaleidoscope of rays of light.  
  
It fell on my shoulder, sliding down my robes and halting partway down my chest over the pulsing throb of my heart.  
  
My eyes jerked to that of the phoenix's in surprise knowing the significant of a Phoenix's tears and their healing properties, feeling slightly quelled by its knowing stare.  
  
I reached my hand out and gently stroked its neck. "Sorry," my voice was barely a whisper, unable to be heard by anyone else in the room. "I don't think broken hearts are healed that easily."  
  
"I think that will be all Fawkes." Dumbledore's eyes bored into me and I had the discomforting feeling that he had somehow heard my words despite being at the opposite side of the room.  
  
With a small chirp the phoenix flew across the room, returning to its perch in its cage.  
  
"If no-one else has anything further to add then the meeting is concluded. I will contact all of you to inform you when your presence is next needed at Hogwarts." Dumbledore bowed slightly. "Until next time."  
  
With a last peer at me, those people who did not live at the school disappeared.  
  
Only Sirius Black lingered behind. "Sir?"  
  
"Yes Sirius?"  
  
I decided this would be a good moment to leave and turned towards the door, wanting to get out of there before Black came and beat me up for defiling his godson.  
  
"What about Harry?"  
  
"Ah, indeed. Mr Malfoy." Dumbledore 's voice halted my exit. "Will you stay behind for a moment?"  
  
Damn. I sank onto a chair and waited as the final dredges of people left the room.  
  
"I assure you Sirius, I have it all under control."  
  
With one last doubtful glance at me, Sirius nodded respectfully and disappeared.  
  
Dumbledore turned to me. "Am I right in presuming that Voldemort has requested that you watch Mr Potter?"  
  
I nodded with some trepidation.  
  
"In keeping with your task from Voldemort I believe it would be easiest for you to keep an eye on Mr Potter. It would kill two birds with one stone, if you will."  
  
Oh no- no no no no no. This was not part of the deal. I never signed up for this.  
  
"If you don't mind me saying sir- might it not be a better idea for Granger to do that. Potter and I are supposed to hate each other."  
  
"Miss Granger is too emotionally involved."  
  
"And I'm not???" I asked incredulously, wondering whether Dumbledore had fallen asleep during the premiere showing of my memories.  
  
Dumbledore looked down. "Perhaps I should rephrase that – Mr Potter is too emotionally involved with Miss Granger to let her worry about his safety."  
  
I nodded slowly. "You mean Harry cares about her and doesn't give a shit about me?" I said bitterly, pain rising inside me at the reminder.  
  
"Those were not my words Mr Malfoy." Dumbledore said gently.  
  
"But that's what you meant?" I pressed stonily.  
  
He sighed slightly. "Yes."  
  
Of course. Feel free not to protect me from the truth. I'm Draco Malfoy, son of a death eater, Prince of Slytherin . . . I have no emotions. Anything to do with Harry Potter does not feel like it's stabbing me in the heart.  
  
"Fine." I said finally, not trusting myself to say anything more.  
  
Dumbledore nodded; obviously relieved he did not have to console a sobbing teenager. "If you see anything unusual or anything that you consider suspicious inform me immediately."  
  
"I got it." I grabbed my bag from the floor, attempting not to look too sullen. "Is it ok if I go now?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
I turned and walked out of his office, feeling eyes on me the second that I left.  
  
"What do you want Granger." I groaned, turning slowly to meet her eyes.  
  
"I wanted to talk to you."  
  
I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. "Granger look the last thing I need at this moment in time is for you to tell me that you hate me and will mistrust me until the day that one of us dies, and that Potter would rather throw himself off a cliff than – "  
  
"Malfoy." her voice broke through my words and I noticed to my surprise that she looked rather amused. "I was going to say nothing of the sort."  
  
"Oh." Slightly taken aback I paused, "so what were you going to say?"  
  
"I didn't have a plan of what to say you know Malfoy. I just wanted to . . . talk."  
  
Talk. Hmm. That sounded exceedingly girly. Or extremely Gryffindor . . . one of the two. But then again I supposed joining the Order of the Phoenix sounded rather Gryffindor. In for a Knut in for a Galleon.  
  
"So talk then."  
  
"Malfoy." she snapped. "It doesn't work like that. I don't just talk."  
  
"Ok sorry." Not really wanting Granger to slap me again and feeling too emotionally drained to argue, I racked my brains for something to say. "So how long have you been a member of the Order for?"  
  
"Since the beginning of the school year."  
  
"What are you telling," I hesitated, unsure whether I could say his name, "Potter and Weasley?"  
  
A self satisfied smile spread across her face. "Library – it works like a charm, if you'll pardon the pun."  
  
I blinked. "Granger, no one could humanly spend that long in a library without going insane – even you. I refuse to believe that your friends are so stupid that they just accept that explanation without question."  
  
She laughed. "You really shouldn't underestimate the effect that the word 'library' has on Ron. If they show the slightest signs of doubting that that's where I'm going, I simply invite them along with me."  
  
"Aren't you worried they might call your bluff."  
  
"If Ron ever willingly decides to join me in the library to revise for an exam which hasn't been set yet then I will dance the Macarena in the middle of the Great Hall."  
  
We walked through the corridors, neither one of us speaking to the other, both lost in our thoughts.  
  
"I-I don't get it." I said finally, breaking the silence. "Why are you are a member and Ha-Potter's not? I would have thought that he would have been the one to - " I stopped realising that it sounded faintly insulting.  
  
"If you hadn't noticed Harry has a habit of spontaneously running off and saving the day." Hermione smiled slightly, the tone of disapproval in her voice fading. "He has enough on his plate without him trying to get himself killed. Plus he's absolutely incapable at keeping his mouth shut- everyone would know about what he's doing in the Order within a week. Not because he can't be trusted but just because his inability at subtlety amazes even me."  
  
"So he doesn't know anything about it?"  
  
"He knows it exists but as far as he knows only adults can be members."  
  
I looked at her pointedly.  
  
"Desperate times call for desperate measures." she said with a small shrug. "They needed someone to find out what was going on in Hogwarts."  
  
"Yeah and I guess if I can be a Death Eater then you can be a member of the Order, right?"  
  
She tilted her head slightly. "You know . . . you're not a Death Eater. You're not doing this for the fun of it- you're doing it to try and save someone you love."  
  
I flinched. "I don't love him."  
  
She raised her eyebrows slightly. "Really?"  
  
"Really." I snapped.  
  
"If you say so."  
  
I stopped dead, glaring at her fiercely. "I do say so, and who are you to argue with that? Just because you know everything else doesn't mean you know the slightest thing about me."  
  
"I saw it all Malfoy." she reminded me, sympathy evident in her brown eyes.  
  
"Yeah. Saw it. Not felt it." I bit the words out angrily. She remained silent, obviously not wanting to set me off into some sort of violent rage. To be fair, it didn't exactly take someone of Granger's intelligence to work out I was still in love with Potter. I sighed, all the anger draining from my body. "Do you think I'm sick?" I asked quietly. "For doing what I did? Changing time just to be with him."  
  
"Not sick . . . a little creepy perhaps but not sick." she offered me a small smile, showing that she was indeed joking. "Love's a crazy thing Malfoy. I can't blame you for what you did . . . any of it."  
  
A new worry struck me and I turned to her horrified. "Granger you can't tell anyone about this. Especially not Ha – Potter." The desperate plea in my voice caused me to cringe inwardly.  
  
"Malfoy relax. You may not be my favourite person in the world but I would no sooner tell Harry any of this than invite Voldemort to my birthday party."  
  
For a moment I became lost in the image of Voldemort in a party hat playing musical chairs. Granger's words however jolted me back to attention.  
  
"We need to hurry." she checked her watch with a small frown. "We're going to be late for potions."  
  
"You need to hurry not me Granger." I drawled. "Snape wouldn't care less if I wandered in five minutes from the end of the lesson singing 'You Sexy Thing' whilst stripping every imported item of clothing from my body."  
  
Granger found herself unable to function for a few seconds, the image being so strong that she found herself running through it in her head. "So would you actually be singing it at Snape?" she asked, mock seriousness colouring her tone.  
  
I rolled my eyes. "Oh yes who ever could resist those greasy locks? That body he hides under tent-like robes??"  
  
"I must say Malfoy you surprised me."  
  
"And why would that be?"  
  
"I thought you'd be singing it at Harry."  
  
Stunned and feeling a sensation akin to being kicked in the stomach by a Hippogriff I stared at her, unsure whether to cry or hit her.  
  
Realisation at what she had said dawned in her eyes and she instantly opened her mouth to attempt to smooth the situation over. "Oh God. Malfoy I'm sor - "  
  
What was it she was saying about Potter having no subtlety???  
  
I held up a hand, cutting off her apology. "You better get to class Granger." My voice was hard and cold, attempting to distance myself from her; from the friendly banter which had occurred just moments earlier.  
  
She nodded slightly, regret showing in her eyes before she turned and entered the Potions classroom.  
  
I followed slowly, dragging my feet both metaphorically and literally. I stopped at the doorway, unsure whether I had the strength to enter the room. He was in there. Actually in there. Sitting with his green eyes sparkling brightly, talking and laughing with his bloody friends. His black hair of course would be falling in front of his eyes in a manner that begged for your hand to just reach out and move it away, hoping that maybe for once he would look at you without the anger that usually lay in his eyes when his stare was directed at you. Hoping that maybe his barriers would come down and maybe, just maybe . . .  
  
I stopped my train of thought myself, knowing that no good would come of it. Knowing that I should just give it up now.  
  
I'd avoided him successfully that morning (except for the horribly painful, embarrassing moment at breakfast), sharing no lessons with the Gryffindors. But I couldn't avoid him any longer. In fact, I had to sit in a small classroom with him for the next two hours.  
  
I'd stood up to my father, insulted Voldemort to his face, lived through the Crucio curse (among others) countless times and killed the person I loved. But there was no way I was walking into that classroom.  
  
I peered through the window one last time, with every intention of doing my usual trick of running away from a situation I didn't like. Unfortunately for my peace of mind and my intentions, I accidentally caught Snape's eyes.  
  
The murderous threat in them was the only thing which prompted me to open the door and walk inside the classroom, my eyes flickering instantly to the back of Potter's head as though there was some kind of magnetic field between us.  
  
Two hours. How hard could that be, right?  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Thankyou for reading!!! Anyone who's still actually reading this story after all this time – I am impressed beyond words. Sorry for any mistakes or character weirdness but it's been a long time since I last wrote this story.   
  
Please. Please. Please. Please Review!!!!!  
  
Thanks!  
  
Cherrycola69 


	4. Chapter 4

Ok this chapter came a bit quickly for my liking . . . generally because I have a hugely important exam I'm supposed to be revising for.  
  
Funny how revision inspires you to write so much.  
  
Thanks everyone who reviewed! It means loads to me.  
  
Just a couple of notes.  
  
Wintermoon – hey! I'm so glad you're still reading this! Am absolutely loving your new fic and I'm so glad you like this one too!  
  
Venilia- Ok to clear this up cuz it's a bit confusing. Draco killed Harry because he realised that Harry was not the person he thought he was – aka not like the real one. Draco doesn't really have that much against killing people in general, it was more the fact that Harry did it. Any screams he remembers merely serve as a reminder of what Harry became. And he's joining the Order of the Phoenix now hoping that it'll make a difference and Harry will never become that. His guilt means that he's trying to make up for what he did and this is the only thing he can think of to protect Harry. Understand? I'm not sure I do now I explained it! Thanks for reviewing!  
  
  
  
Enjoy!!!  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 4  
  
_I take it back._  
  
Two hours wasn't hard – it was bloody torture  
  
Please please please let them almost be up.  
  
I glanced at the clock  
  
_Well would you look at that; I've only been in here fifteen minutes._  
  
The implications that arrived with that suddenly sank into my brain. Fifteen minutes? Fifteen minutes????  
  
I hated my life.  
  
Me and time just did not get on very well. I screw with it, it screws with me. A balanced relationship but probably not a healthy one.  
  
It was the only way to explain time going this slowly.  
  
I banged my head softly against the desk, trying not to attract too much attention. I really was abusing my poor head. First Dumbledore's door and now my Potion's desk. Who knew where either of those items had been?  
  
And this bloody spy business? Sucked.  
  
I always imagined that the side of light wouldn't give you assignments guaranteed to disturb and destroy you beyond your imagination.  
  
_Well at least my life can't get any worse._  
  
I froze, realising what I had just thought.  
  
Why. In the name of all things magical did I think that???  
  
That settled it. I had advanced beyond the word 'idiot' in all possible ways. It didn't even come close to describing me. I would get full marks in any exam for idiots I took – in fact, scratch that. I could write any exam for idiots.  
  
"Mr Malfoy?" Snape's voice made me jump out of my seat slightly, landing with a wince. Those creaky wooden chairs were not half as comfy as I pretended.  
  
"Yes professor?" I chorused sweetly.  
  
"Did you hear what I said?"  
  
I blinked.  
  
Was that apart from 'Mr Malfoy'???  
  
"Of course I did, sir. But... ah...I don't think Granger did, maybe you should say it again." All this was delivered in my 'I'm the bestest student in the entire world and you know you love me more than any other Slytherin' voice.  
  
Granger shot me a glare from the corner of her eye but it was lacking a certain something that was usually very abundant in Granger's glares. I shifted in my seats realising that even though I'd returned to the real world, everything had changed.  
  
"Five points from Gryffindor for making me repeat myself unnecessarily." Snape snapped immediately.  
  
Well it was nice to know some things never changed.  
  
The again his willingness to go along with that horrifically weak excuse showed he was obviously still holding quite a large amount of hostility towards the Gryffindors in general since finding out about my feelings for . . . the guy with the glasses.  
  
And that was definitely new.  
  
"Professor I hardly think that –" Granger started indignantly.  
  
You'd think such a smart girl would know when to give up and play dead.  
  
"Silence!" Snape bellowed, glowering at her until she reluctantly shut her mouth. "Now if I may continue." he paused dramatically and I rolled my eyes, fully aware of my godfather's issues with drama. "Potter and Malfoy."  
  
He needn't have bothered with the pause.  
  
"Uhh . . . sir." I interrupted immediately, feeling my throat constrict slightly. "What exactly are we talking about?"  
  
"I thought you were listening Mr Malfoy." Snape replied with more than a touch of sarcasm.  
  
"For the benefit of those people who weren't." I ground out, hating having to continue with this game but not wanting to give in to the challenge in his eyes.  
  
"I," he paused, obviously drawing out the torment I was experiencing, "was reading out the list of Potions pairs that you will be working in from now onwards."  
  
My face paled.  
  
"For the rest of year." he continued, watching my reaction smugly.  
  
I felt sick. Very very sick. In fact, I was going to be sick right there and then; all over Snape.  
  
He carried on regardless, every word filled with a manic kind of glee. "Every lesson. Every joint project and joint piece of homework I set from now until summer."  
  
I stared in numb shock at my godfather who looked as close to amusement as I'd ever seen him.  
  
Sadistic git.  
  
And he was supposed to like me.  
  
He couldn't do this.  
  
He couldn't!  
  
I could not spend the next year working with Potter; I could barely even get through a two hour lesson with him.  
  
It hurt to even look at him.  
  
This had to be a joke. Then again my godfather didn't do jokes that often. So this could be . . . a dream. Yeah that had to be it.  
  
I was trapped in some awful nightmare and any second now I'd wake up and –  
  
"That's not fair Professor!"  
  
I found myself rather hoping that the voice hadn't been mine.  
  
"Excuse me Mr Weasley?" Snape rounded on him.  
  
I rather wished he was going to come up with some good points that would prevent the partnership.  
  
"Well –" Weasley had obviously not planned to speak and he looked extremely flustered. "Malfoy – Harry – it – it's just not fair!"  
  
Ok so my hopes were dashed.  
  
"20 points from Gryffindor for the worst argument I've ever heard."  
  
Personally I'd have made it 30.  
  
"Ron I can take care of myself." Potter broke in, quietly, looking his friend in the eye.  
  
"But Harry . . . it's Malfoy! I mean of all the times to put you with that stupid poncy – "  
  
"If you're going to insult me Weasel at least do it to my face. I'm right here." I snapped.  
  
Weasley turned to me defiantly. "Ok I will then. Just because your father – "  
  
"Ron." Granger cut in, her eyes darting towards me nervously.  
  
He ignored her. "Just because your father's dead that doesn't mean that I'm just going to sit here and pretend that you've changed. You're still exactly what you've always been."  
  
"And what, exactly," I bit out, "have I always been?"  
  
"Ron leave it." Potter put a soothing hand on Weasley's shoulder as Snape and Weasley simultaneously opened their mouths – one to call me something tragically predictable like 'ferret face' and the other to subtract points as quickly as the other could insult. "He's not worth it."  
  
My heart constricted, pain flooding through me. I think I would have preferred ferret-face  
  
Granger looked at me sympathetically but I barely noticed.  
  
_'He's not worth it'._  
  
His words echoed through me, causing a fresh wave of heart-ache each time they repeated in my head.  
  
I was nothing to him. Nothing.  
  
Loathing I could take. The bitter rivalry was attention, filled with passion. But dismissal . . .  
  
I didn't think I could take that.  
  
Potter sat next to me. His body was screaming of reluctance and yet he smiled reassuringly at Weasley and Granger, sitting far behind us in the classroom.  
  
With a quiet sigh he turned in his chair until he was facing forwards.  
  
"Don't speak to me and I won't speak to you, understand?" My voice was aggressive, having decided that offence is the best defence.  
  
"Like I'd want to speak to you." Potter snapped, antagonism in his voice.  
  
"Well same here." I snarled.  
  
_Weak Malfoy. Really weak._  
  
"I on the other hand," Snape's voice startled me for the second time that day with the same painful results, "would like to speak to you Mr Potter."  
  
Potter's face fell and he grudgingly clambered to his feet. I watched him leave out of the corner of my eye, relaxing slightly as I realised that I could no longer feel the heat from his body.  
  
I hated it.  
  
There were moments I really hated it- that he was alive and hated me whereas the Harry who'd loved me deeply enough to sacrifice everything for me was dead.  
  
I couldn't stand it. Any of it.  
  
It hurt so much- I was in a constant battle with myself not to pin him down and punch him until he didn't look recognisable as Harry Potter. Until the blood coated his skin, covering up that damned scar. Until his features crushed so they were no longer associated with him. Until his green eyes clenched shut in agony. At least that way there wouldn't be a constant reminder of what I'd done.  
  
But he (unlike me) hadn't done anything wrong – you can't hate someone for not loving you.  
  
Or at least you shouldn't.  
  
It would be so easy to blame him – to think that everything that had happened to me was all his fault; so much easier to hate than to suffer the torture of unrequited love. If he'd loved me then I wouldn't have changed time, the other Harry wouldn't be dead and I wouldn't hate myself.  
  
I hated it. But at the same time I loved it. Even after everything that had happened my heart still skipped a beat when I looked at him. Even after everything I still . . .still . . .  
  
Potter dropped back into his seat and I switched my attention to the Potions recipe, focussing on pretending that I was not aware of his presence.  
  
Time passed.  
  
Seconds ticked away and my eyes began to rebel; they itched from being forced to stare at the same page for so long when they just wished to watch him.  
  
I snuck a quick look at him. Now that his anger had faded he seemed nervous; extremely uncomfortable in my presence as though I was going to – well ok to be fair as far as he knew I pretty much could and would to anything to him.  
  
He really was nothing like the other Harry. That didn't really come as much of a surprise but Merlin how I'd wanted him to be. The other Harry I understood – this one I didn't know how to even have a civil conversation with when sober.  
  
"Malfoy I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about your father."  
  
His voice startled me and I gazed at him blankly for a few seconds, wondering whether Snape had given him some sort of personality transplant that meant he was going to attempt niceness.  
  
"What I said the other night was – "  
  
"Potter," I fought to keep my voice level. "Don't ever mention him again do you understand?"  
  
My father. There was a thought that still caused my blood to boil. He may be dead in this world but that didn't mean that the hatred I'd developed in the other reality was dead too.  
  
There was a small pause of stunned silence. "I just wanted to – "  
  
"Well don't." I snapped, my fists connecting with the table with a bit too much anger for either of our likings. "I told you not to talk to me or was your poor Gryffindor brain not able to understand that? Just shut the fuck up and let me get on with my work."  
  
"Malfoy – "  
  
"Are you deaf as well as stupid Potter? SHUT UP!" I snapped, turning back to the empty parchment in front of me, instantly resuming my calm appearance.  
  
"Do you have to be such a git?" he was starting to look seriously annoyed.  
  
"Yes Potter I do." I calmly wrote the title onto the parchment with fluid motions, trying to dispel the trembling of my fingers.  
  
"Why?" he exclaimed through gritted teeth.  
  
I put my quill down and stared at him coolly.  
  
"Because you're Harry Potter and I'm Draco Malfoy- you're a Gryffindor and I'm a Slytherin. That's how its meant to be."  
  
Comprehension dawned in his eyes as he realised his own words were being thrown back in his face.  
  
"Malfoy I – "  
  
"Save it Potter." I brushed my fringe away from my eyes, trying in vain to read the recipe we were preparing. "You're the one who wanted it this way."  
  
"I didn't want you to – " he sighed. "Nevermind."  
  
I grabbed a handful of ingredients. "No Potter do tell me – what didn't you want me to do? Actually do what you wanted? Listen to you? Carry on with my life without obsessing about every detail of our conversation?" My chopping of the ingredients became more vicious with every second.  
  
"I didn't want you to hate me." he snapped. "That wasn't what I wanted."  
  
"Well it's what you got." I turned away huffily. "Now if you'll excuse me I have a potion to make and I can't do it whilst you're jabbering on at me. In fact why don't you just sit there and be quiet. At least that way there's nothing you can do to mess this up."  
  
"I'm not Neville, Malfoy." he spat, unusually put out by my unusually weak, (though . . . can you blame me?) taunts.  
  
"Potter what did I say about talking?" I asked coolly, throwing an ingredient into the cauldron and ignoring the expression of anger on his face.  
  
"Well you can just go fu – "  
  
"Problem Potter?" Snape interrupted, threatening him with complex eye signals that I'd never seen from anyone except him.  
  
"None whatsoever _Professor_." Harry's face screwed up bitterly.  
  
"Ten points from Gryffindor for your tone." Snape was just dying to tear him to pieces and possibly subtract points from Gryffindor until their total was in the minus figures.  
  
And whilst a part of me really did not mind that, another part of me knew that Potter was yet again having the repercussions of my feelings taken out on him. Therefore I signalled a warning to my godfather with my eyes and watched as he reluctantly walked away.  
  
Potter was fuming. Actually fuming. I could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.  
  
And I couldn't resist it. With a smirk I turned to him and injected a cool drawl into my voice.  
  
"I told you you should have been quiet Potter."  
  
"SHUT UP"

* * *

"Professor Snape can I talk to you?" The words left my mouth the second the other students left the room.  
  
"No."  
  
"Professor – " I hissed.  
  
"No. If it's about me pairing you with Potter then I don't want to hear a word about it."  
  
I paused with an irritable sigh, deciding to try a new approach. "Sev I **need** to talk to you."  
  
"No. You need to go to your next lesson."  
  
"What kind of godfather would you be if when I needed you the most you weren't there to talk to me. My father's dead. I'm making sacrifices I never knew were possible. I'm struggling with a broken heart and on top of that you think it's really funny to make me and Potter partners!!!" by the end of the speech I was fuming, even myself convinced by my attempt at self- righteous rage. There was a note of despair and desperation in my voice that I tried valiantly to ignore. I just hoped that my godfather would ignore it too.  
  
"How much do you think I can take?" I added in a slightly softer tone. Snape was not the only one with an aptitude for drama.  
  
Snape's lip curled in a way that signalled he'd been defeated and with a frown he turned to me. "Draco look. I have many reasons for you and Potter to be partners. Your task is to watch Potter correct? How much more of an excuse do you need for spending time with him if not working on unavoidable classwork?"  
  
"I wasn't even aware he actually did Potions homework." I muttered bitterly.  
  
Snape ignored me (something which had been happening an awful lot that day). "And even if that had not been the case you cannot just sit and watch him from afar, constantly taunting yourself with what you cannot have. He's not perfect Draco and maybe if you actually spent some time with him then you would work that out."  
  
"And if I realise he's even more wonderful than I thought and I fall even further in love with him?"  
  
"Well . . . " he paused for a moment, a devious smirk on his face, "you were late for class. Consider this your punishment."  
  
And as I stepped out of the classroom, scowling, I began to wonder if it still counted as punishment if I wanted it more than anything.

* * *

It was of course, turning into a day of trials and tribulations for me. Mostly tribulations actually . . . but who's counting?  
  
So it was only fitting that when I stepped out of the potions classroom Potter and his friends were still there.  
  
Now, I don't know how it takes that long to walk down the corridor but I did know that I was faced with one of those 'stay and watch Potter or leave' situations that were becoming oh so familiar.  
  
So of course . . . I lurked.  
  
I didn't actually know why I was lurking. It wasn't even my normal 'hide in the shadows and spy on people who can't see me and have no idea I'm there' lurking. It was more 'stand in broad daylight watching Potter gormlessly, with my mouth open enough to catch flies' type of lurking.  
  
It was such terrible lurking in fact that both Granger and Weasley had picked up on the fact that I was standing there at least five minutes ago.  
  
Hermione was giving me curious looks that contrasted greatly to Weasley's own hate filled glares.  
  
Potter on the other hand . . . well . . . Potter hadn't even realised I was there and had blithely proceeded to tell his friends information that I could have used so well if I still hated him and didn't want to throw him down and have my wicked way with him right there in front of –  
  
Hmm.  
  
Anyway I digress.  
  
"I'm failing potions." Potter told them both dejectedly.  
  
"How can you be _failing_ Potions Harry?"  
  
"That test we did yesterday . . ." he trailed off, "I uhh . . . sort of . . . got them all . . . " he paused, "wrong." he said finally after great deliberation.  
  
"Wrong?" Granger repeated in a way that implied she though she'd misheard him.  
  
"All of them?" Even Weasley was astounded, his mouth opening and closing like that of . . . a fish that was an extremely vivid red/ginger colour.  
  
"Pretty much." Potter nodded slowly, going on to clarify his statement. "Yeah."  
  
There was a moment of stunned silence whilst they all (and me as well in fact) deliberated that.  
  
"Oh." Granger said finally, stunned.  
  
"Thanks for that show of support Mione." Potter's sarcasm showed even on his face.  
  
"I'm sorry Harry it's just . . . " she scrambled for words, "There were 20 questions – how could you not have even got one right? I know for a fact that you knew that answer to question 13."  
  
"Question 13?" Potter looked at her blankly.  
  
"Yes question 13, the one about the elixir of – " she stopped, watching his face carefully, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Harry you did answer question 13 didn't you?"  
  
A pause. "Not exactly."  
  
Granger leaned forwardly slightly in a manner one might suspect that Voldemort interrogates in. Actually, one didn't suspect; one (me) knew for a fact. "Did you even reach question 13?"  
  
"I was . . . distracted."  
  
Way to dodge an answer Potter.  
  
"Harry," Granger's teeth were gritted, "how far exactly did you get?"  
  
By now even the spiders on the ceiling were hanging on to their every word in suspense.  
  
"Question 6." he replied finally. "But – " 

Question 6. That **was** quite impressive come to think of it.   
  
"Question 6? Question 6?" Granger looked like she was about to have some sort of fit. "How could you only get up to question 6? You knew that doing well in that exam was the only way you were going to keep passing Potions. I do not have time to tutor you Harry and I really would think that you would have the sense to – "  
  
I tuned Granger out, watching Potter carefully.  
  
Despondency flickered in his eyes and I felt something inside me lurch with sympathy. What was it about Potter that called out to me to such a degree?  
  
Unseen by him, 20 feet away I could still feel him; feel the emotions that flitted inside him as though they were mine. I could feel his pain and despair.  
  
Merlin I wanted to help him, wanted to enfold him into my arms and hold him until the world ended.  
  
I felt myself melting, at the thought of touching him. Kissing each of his problems away. Tasting every inch of his skin. I was melting. Melting into him.  
  
_Malfoy's don't melt. Think ice. Cold and impenetrable. That is what you are and – hang on a minute.  
_  
Why was I walking towards them?  
  
_Oh no. Oh no._  
  
What was I doing?  
  
_Feet stop it. Now. Please?  
_  
_Just because I may have wanted to help him does not mean that you have the right to try and act on that. _

_It was a split second of madness!  
_  
And yet I was still walking. Still walking. Still –  
  
_Just turn around and go away you stupid twat. You do not owe him anything._  
  
_Please just stop!_  
  
My feet stopped and I inwardly breathed a sigh of relief, closing my eyes briefly. That had been close.  
  
My eyes fluttered open and with a jerk I realised exactly how close it had been.  
  
_Ah ok._  
  
My feet had stopped an inch in front of where Potter and his friends stood.  
  
That couldn't be good.  
  
Granger's eyes had widened in a way that seemed to suggest she was about to watch a tragedy occur. I of course was taking every possible measure to ensure that said tragedy did not occur, namely indulging in ferocious mental instruction.  
  
_Do not open your mouth. No. Just don't do it. There is nothing that could possible be gained through saying a single word right now.  
_  
_No! No!_  
  
_Shut your mouth immediately!  
  
I'm warning you.  
  
Not a word. Not one single –_  
  
'Potter.'  
  
_Oh crap.  
_  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Thanks for reading!

Please review; it's what keeps me going.

Even if it's just to say you're reading.


	5. Chapter 5

Yay!!!  
  
Exams are over much to my relief. So of course the first (well almost) thing I did was start writing this!  
  
Makes a change from last year. When I finished my exams then I stopped writing this.  
  
Well anyway  
  
Thankyou so much everyone for reviewing!!! I love it so much.  
  
I've not got much time now so I can only reply to a few reviews:  
  
Uples - gasp Of course Hermione will be Draco's ally. I would not have it any other way . . . in this fic anyway. Thanks for reviewing!!  
  
spunky slytherin – I'm glad you like it!! You have to wait no longer. Another chapter is here. Thanks for reviewing!!  
  
Triton Bloom – YAY!!! You're back! I missed your reviews! Thanks for being back and thanks for reviewing!!  
  
Venilia – Ok. Uhmm. Well Draco told Harry he loved him more because he was expecting to get RealHarry and instead ended up with one who was more sarcastic, slightly sluttier and less self-righteous. His feelings developed even more and so he told OtherHarry that. But then when he found out what OtherHarry was going to do he realised that just because he was all those good things that didn't mean he didn't have a hell of a lot of bad points. What OtherHarry did was incongruous with whatever images of either of the two Harrys that Draco had. He was in love with him but sometimes you have to sacrifice that to do what is right. Ok that explanation made absolutely no sense whatsoever. Sorry. Thanks for reviewing though!!!  
  
  
  
"Potter."  
  
I turned warily, recognising Malfoy's cool drawl with an immediacy resulting from four years of constant showdowns in which his voice appeared a great deal. "What?"  
  
"Can I talk to you?" he asked calmly.  
  
My eyes flickered over his face, checking for any signs of the fury that had flared up erratically in the lesson. "Ok." I replied doubtfully, waiting to hear what he had to say.  
  
"Alone." he said pointedly, looking at Ron and Mione.  
  
"Like hell you can." Ron snapped, reddening with anger.  
  
Hermione took hold of Ron's arm; cutting off the tirade I would have bet my life was about to be unleashed. "We'll see you later Harry." she smiled brightly, leading Ron away. His muffled exclamations echoed down the corridor after them, insults towards Malfoy bouncing off the walls in every direction.  
  
Ok so Hermione obviously had no qualms about leaving me alone with the arch- rival who's been trying to kill, maim, or cause serious damage to me for the last four years. Did my friends actually want me alive?  
  
"What do you want?" I asked suspiciously, my hand poised to seize my wand if he made any signs of attack.  
  
He shrugged slightly, looking less self-assured than he originally had done. "I just thought I'd tell you that you might want to revise invisibility potions."  
  
"Invisibility potions?"  
  
I was confused to say the least.  
  
What was so wonderful about invisibility potions that he had to talk to me in private about them?  
  
"That's what the test on Monday's going to be about." his eyes wandered from the floor to the ceiling and back again, seemingly looking anywhere but at me.  
  
How did he know that?  
  
"They're not even included in the course." Scepticism laced my tone.  
  
A lazy smirk crossed his face. "Do you think Snape cares?"  
  
Well no.  
  
A frown appeared on my face and my teeth toyed with my bottom lip. 'Why are you telling me this?'  
  
He hesitated. "Thought you might need a heads up that's all." Some of the familiar disdain entered his eyes. "Let's face it . . . you need all the help you can get."  
  
"Thanks for reminding me." I said wryly, my mind flashing back to the look on Snape's face when he'd handed me my test. Unnerving pleasure at my failure mixed with the horror at the thought that I'd have to retake his class.  
  
"No problem." he said coolly, turning to walk away.  
  
I wracked my brain trying to remember if we'd actually studied invisibility potions. They kind of sounded familiar but only in the way where –  
  
I screwed up my face in concentration and realisation dawned. In the way where Hermione had told me to remember to copy up her notes on Invisibility potions, because really Harry, breaking your arm doesn't excuse you from completing any work you missed.  
  
I remembered that lecture; it was one that was frequently repeated.  
  
It just figured that that would be what was on the test. Oh well I'd just have to borrow her notes and –  
  
Damn.  
  
I'd told her I had copied them up and if she finds out that I hadn't then I probably wouldn't have a head to use in the test.  
  
Ron? Could I borrow his notes?  
  
Well I suppose they would have been fine if not for the fact that his handwriting is beyond unintelligible and he probably had less notes on it than I did.  
  
"Uhh, Malfoy?" my voice emerged before I thought my actions through.  
  
He stopped irritably. "What?"  
  
Well what had I got to lose?  
  
_About 27 body parts?_  
  
"I don't suppose I could borrow your notes could I?" There was a reason I was in Gryffindor after all. Courage in the face of Draco Malfoy. Not that his face was scary . . . I mean . . . not that it was unscary but . . .  
  
He stared at me, his eyes blank. Ah, the calm before the storm.  
  
Ok this was the part where I backed away from the Malfoy slowly. Slowly does it Harry.  
  
Preparing myself for any curse he may have flung my way I jumped with shock as he simply started to laugh. "You're hopeless Potter. I mean you're actually hopeless."  
  
"It's not my fault!" I exclaimed, a little put out by his reaction of verging on hysterical laughter. "I was in the hospital wing when we had the lesson on them."  
  
"So I suppose you won't understand them either?"  
  
I shook my head slowly, feeling embarrassment flood my body. Yeah I actually **was** hopeless.  
  
He sighed, resignation in his features. "Come on." he began to walk briskly down the corridor.  
  
I watched him hesitantly, wondering whether to follow; wondering whether he was expecting me to. Eventually, my mind made up I raced after him.  
  
"Where are we going?" I panted as we trailed down the endless winding corridors of Hogwarts.  
  
"To my room." he answered simply.  
  
I stopped dead. "What? Why?"  
  
There was no way I was going into Malfoy's room. There was absolutely no way.  
  
"Because if you fail potions then I'm going to be without a partner." he answered shortly.  
  
Yeah I wasn't **that **thick; I had guessed that by now. Malfoy was of course motivated by self-interest per usual.  
  
"But do we really have to do it in your room?" I asked helplessly, realising too late the innuendo in my words.  
  
"Well is there somewhere else you'd rather do it Potter?" his voice was laced with suggestive humour and I felt something instead me lurch unsteadily.  
  
"Your room's fine." I squeaked.  
  
He smiled in triumph and stopped in front of a door not far from the Slytherin common room. (Not that I knew where that was of course)  
  
He gave me a surreptitious glance and muttered the password under his breath. The door swung open and he stepped inside immediately.  
  
I lurked at the door, peering in nervously, not feeling completely right just waltzing into his room.  
  
"Potter are you coming in or not?" his impatient voice snapped.  
  
Not.  
  
"Uhh . . . sure."  
  
Oh God. I was going into Draco Malfoy's bedroom.  
  
I stepped in.  
  
Oh God. I was **in **Draco Malfoy's bedroom.  
  
The door slammed behind me and I jumped nervously, looking around quickly. This could of course be some elaborate plot to kill me. In fact it was actually quite a simple plan really. Simplicity is usually the key to success. Ok I felt a bit nervous now.  
  
"So," I said brightly, attempting not to look as though I was fearing for my life, "Your room is very uh . . . green."  
  
_You're such a good conversation starter._  
  
Well it wasn't as though this was a situation I was familiar with or comfortable in. How on earth was I supposed to know what to talk to him about??  
  
_You should have read "10 Ways to start killer conversations with your arch rival". It's supposedly a thrilling read._  
  
He cocked an eyebrow, pausing in his rifling through a pile of papers. "Not a fan of green?"  
  
It had crossed my mind that by calling his room green I had given Malfoy enough ammunition (aka very little) to start an argument but to my surprise he'd responded as a normal human being would. This day was getting stranger and stranger. If I was going to be in Malfoy's room I would at least have been happier if he was at my throat.  
  
_I'm sure you would._  
  
My inner voice sounded almost . . . suggestive. But...that obviously couldn't be the case. Why would my inner voice want to do that?  
  
"It's just very . . . Slytherin."  
  
Malfoy hmph-ed. "I don't think you're one to comment. Weren't you a Slytherin potential yourself?"  
  
"And obviously the reason I'm not an actual Slytherin is because I couldn't live in a green room." I retorted, a tad touchy about that subject.  
  
"Yeah sure, you didn't want to become a Slytherin because you're not overly fond of the colour green; not because everyone in Slytherin becomes some sort of Dark Lord or mass murderer. I mean what's corruption and evil compared to green?"  
  
Strange. I couldn't tell whether or not he was joking. Normally comment such as that from Malfoy meant he was trying to wind me up. But that one sounded almost . . . funny . . . in a biting sarcasm kind of way.  
  
"Something like that." I replied finally, still undecided on the attempt at humour front.  
  
He shot me a strange look and resumed ignoring me.  
  
"Don't you have a lesson now?" because I sure did.  
  
"Yeah. Sod it." he replied flippantly, shrugging slightly.  
  
Ok well if Malfoy could break the rules then so could I – I even knew I'd get away with it.  
  
Unlike Malfoy, teachers (with the obvious exception of Snape) loved me.  
  
I fidgeted nervously, watching him root through one of the drawers in his desk. The longer I was in this room the more desperate I felt to leave it. Or at least the more desperate I felt to chatter inanely.  
  
"So . . . " awkward small talk here we come, "does everyone in Slytherin have their own room?"  
  
He sent me a look; of what type I couldn't identity (but possibly what I like to call a 'well duh!' look). "Yes."  
  
Ok. Nice monosyllabic one word answer which means I have to think of something to say.  
  
"Oh."  
  
_Yeah you're so much better aren't you?  
  
_"Never shagged a Slytherin Potter?"  
  
I choked. "Pardon?" My eyes felt like they were about to pop out of my head and they apparently looked like it as well, because when Malfoy caught sight of me he laughed softly.  
  
"It wasn't an invitation Potter. It's just if you had done then you would have known that already."  
  
Oh . . . that's . . . ok then.  
  
"I don't – uh – I've – " I paused, taking a deep breath. "No."  
  
"Hmm?" he looked slightly confused, obviously thinking about something else.  
  
"I haven't," did I have to use his words, "shagged a Slytherin."  
  
"Really?" he looked surprised. "Never?"  
  
I folded my arms. 'Should I have?' Did I look like some kind of slut?  
  
"I just thought that," his eyes lost their focus for a few seconds and then he shook himself back to attention, "that you probably had."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"We're the best in bed." he replied directly.  
  
I blinked. "I see."  
  
He seemed a little obsessive about this subject (Obsessive meaning he had said more than three things about it. To my knowledge Malfoy had only ever been obsessive about four things; the pureblood/muggle debate, money, Quidditch and his hatred of me). To be on the safe side, I backed away from the bed slightly, never having felt more tense in my life. At least Voldemort didn't ask prying questions about my sex life.  
  
Avada Kedavra I could handle.  
  
Draco Malfoy talking about me shagging Slytherins on the other hand was . . . beyond contemplation.  
  
I noticed that Malfoy was standing only a foot away and tensed even further, feeling very nervous all of a sudden.  
  
"Will you relax Potter, I didn't drag you here to have my wicked way with you." his voice was amused.  
  
_Yeah well what if I want you to._  
  
Where. The. Fuck. Did. That. Come. From?  
  
I made a noise that was meant to be a laugh but emerged as a strangled squawk.  
  
Maybe Malfoy's room had something in it that made people think like this. That was probable how he got girls . . . or guys . . . whatever.  
  
_Guys huh? Maybe you're in with a chance there then._  
  
In with a chance?  
  
I didn't want to be in with a chance. In fact there was nothing I wanted less than to be in with a chance.  
  
Feeling desperately confused and possessing the urge to beat my brains out on the wall I looked around. How long did it take to find some notes for fuck's sake???  
  
"You look guilty." he commented, moving a chair over to his wardrobe.  
  
"Guilty? Why would I look guilty?" I babbled.  
  
"You tell me Potter."  
  
Silent. Be silent. Do not respond to that.  
  
Malfoy stood on aforesaid chair, looking on the top of the wardrobe.  
  
My eyes, trying to look at anything other than Malfoy, wandered to his ass.  
  
With an inward hiss I dragged them away, cursing the day (aka today) that I had ever been stupid enough to come in Malfoy's room.  
  
_(Inward dirty laugh). Haven't you always wanted to **come** in Malfoy's room?_  
  
Ok now I looked guilty. And probably very **very** confused.  
  
I was sick. I should probably go and check myself in at St Mungo's. Did they let you do that? And if they did would I have to tell them why?  
  
Malfoy dropped down to the floor, a wad of parchment in his hand.  
  
He handed them to me. "There you go."  
  
"Thanks." I tried not to let my voice show my relief at the opportunity to leave his room.  
  
"No problem." he smiled slightly.  
  
A thought occurred to me.  
  
_That's unusual._  
  
Why did my inner voice believe wholeheartedly that I was stupid? How could I expect anyone else to believe I was clever when I didn't?  
  
"Malfoy don't you need to learn these."  
  
"No." he sounded slightly affronted.  
  
"Sorry." I offered, deciding that it would be a shame if Malfoy killed me now when escape was so near.  
  
"It's ok Potter you didn't know any better."  
  
I apologise – he insults. Sounds like the natural order has been restored.  
  
"Well I'll go then because," I stopped. Did I need a because to leave? No. But now I'd started so I had to continue. "Because I've been in your room long enough and I don't think you want me to stay here another minute because I might leave Gryffindor germs on everything."  
  
I should never have said 'because'.  
  
"I think my property is already significantly covered in Gryffindor germs Potter." Amusement coloured his voice. "You really are crap at coming up with excuses."  
  
"I know."  
  
"You could at least have said 'I'm already late enough to Transfiguration as it is'."  
  
Damn I never thought of that remarkable obvious excuse. Wait. How did he know where I was going?  
  
"Well I am; late that is. So . . . uhh bye."  
  
I almost tripped in my haste to leave his room and my cheeks flaming I looked at the floor, charging down the corridor.  
  
"Potter." he shouted after me.  
  
I stopped before I'd barely moved five feet. "What?"  
  
"I'll see you in the library at five tomorrow."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"I thought you said that you wouldn't understand the notes."  
  
Oh yeah I did.  
  
"Why are you doing this?" I gestured around. "Lending me your notes, tutoring me . . . I mean . . . what's in it for you?"  
  
He considered my question seriously, a wistful look flickering through his eyes.  
  
"Do you remember what we talked about that night?"  
  
I didn't need to ask which night he meant – we didn't actually spend most nights talking . . . Ok that sounded bad. Not that we spent nights together at all!  
  
_So what you just shag then leave? Don't even bother to spend the night?_  
  
An expression of shocked horror springing to life on my face I inwardly beat up the voice in my head.  
  
Stupid voice. Stupid, stupid, stupid voice!  
  
"Potter?" he prompted.  
  
I nodded quickly.  
  
"I wasn't kidding when I said I wanted us to be friends. But then again I suppose you weren't kidding when you disagreed, right?"  
  
"Well . . . I wasn't kidding but I suppose I might have been . . . drunk and misguided."  
  
Misguided? No **this** was misguided.  
  
"Really?"  
  
Did his face just light up??  
  
I thought about it. "Yeah. But I really am late. So I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
"Ok. Until tomorrow."  
  
And as I ran down the corridor at the rate of a werewolf after prey, I wondered exactly what I was getting myself into.  
  
There was only so much Potions a guy could take.  
  
Four hours into my Potions tutoring session I was slumped across the table, attempting not to let my face slide off my hand and onto the table.  
  
Malfoy had pretty much been talking at me non stop and whilst I certainly knew a lot more about Invisibility potions than when I came in I really needed to sleep.  
  
I felt like I was in a trance. Everything in the room was slightly blurred except for the person sitting next to me. He was the one object of clarity in the haze that surrounded me.  
  
"No," he shook his head, leaning over me slightly to point at something in the book. "See you add the beetle wing after the flobberworm juice not before it."  
  
I swallowed slightly, feeling dizziness sweep over me as his shoulder touched mine.  
  
"If you added the beetle wing then it would change the balance of the potion so that when you added the flobberworm juice you'd be making a totally different potion. Are you following this?"  
  
I was following the movement of his lips more than the actually movement of the conversation.  
  
"Potter?" he tilted his head slightly. "You alright?"  
  
His silky hair fell in his eyes and I suddenly felt the urge to move it, to see if it was as soft as it looked.  
  
_Uhh. I didn't just think that . . . right?_  
  
"Potter?" Malfoy was beginning to look a little concerned. "Potter, are you ok?"  
  
"I-I'm fine." I stuttered slightly, a flush spreading over my cheeks.  
  
An almost imperceptible look of relief swept over his face before the familiar cold arrogant look returned.  
  
"Well if you died on me Dumbledore would never believe I had nothing to do with it."  
  
_But you would have had everything to do with it because you're killing me everytime you look at me like that._  
  
Ooh something was really wrong with me today. Not only did my inner voice seem to fancy Malfoy but it was also really, really cheesy. I actually didn't know which one of those two things was worse.  
  
I was probably just tired, right?  
  
_Of course! I mean it's not as though you normally obsess about Malfoy and wonder where he is every second of the day that you're not bickering with him, is it?_  
  
Well . . . no. I mean ok maybe I did obsess about Malfoy and maybe I was worrying about him when I failed that test that got me into this sitting in the library situation with him . . . but that didn't mean that I liked him. It didn't.  
  
_It's just because you're tired and you are sitting in dim lighting, all alone, so close that you can feel each other's heat. It's just because his eyes look at you in that earnest and yet so cold way that is sexy beyond belief and because his bottom lip just begs to be –_  
  
Yeah, I coughed nervously. Tired. That was it . . . or at least it better be.  
  
_Oh yeah cause time with Malfoy sure wears you out._  
  
Oh God. It was getting worse. And we weren't even in Malfoy's room anymore. Which meant that it was as a result of me and not some spell to get people into bed with Malfoy.  
  
I buried my face in my hands, wondering when my hormones elected their own spokesperson.  
  
"Potter, are you blushing???"  
  
"No." horror tinged my reply.  
  
"You are."  
  
Yes I was.  
  
"No I'm not!" Panic speared through my body. "I just . . . remembered somewhere I needed to be." I scooped up my books into my arms. "Thanks for your help but I really really have to go."  
  
"But – "  
  
"See you on Monday Malfoy." And just like that I fled.  
  
I couldn't cope with this right now. I was too tired. And I didn't just mean physically. The emotional battles, over Cedric's death and my inevitable duel with Voldemort, that my mind had been constantly fighting with my conscience meant that I was unable to take anymore. Least of all my mind playing tricks on me. It wasn't as though I actually wanted him.  
  
Because he's a he. And that would mean that I . . .  
  
Stupid mind playing its stupid tricks.  
  
I really needed to go to bed.  
  
As much as I loved Care of Magical Creatures, it really wasn't my favourite thing to have on a Monday morning. Monday mornings are all about sleepiness and laziness, two things not exactly conducive to dodging angry fire breathing creatures.  
  
Those creatures however were not the reason I was dreading the start of the lesson. In fact it was another creature that was scaring me in ways I hadn't actually thought I could be scared.  
  
A creature by the name of Draco Malfoy.  
  
I'd managed to avoid him all of Sunday, an achievement that I considered extremely impressive. It was actually made slightly less impressive due to the fact that I'd stayed in the Gryffindor common room all day but it still was an achievement nonetheless.  
  
But now there was no escaping him. He was standing less than 20 feet away, the wind blowing his hair around in a way that was decidedly . . . less than unattractive.  
  
I could theoretically run away into the forest. I mean it was full of thousands of evil beings who all would love nothing more than to eat me but anything was better than standing here with the guy who was well on his way to convincing me that I was –  
  
No I was not. I was not I was not I was not!!!!  
  
I liked girls. Cho. I like Cho. Cho was a girl. So take that Draco sex machine Malfoy.  
  
Uhh . . .  
  
"Harry!" Hermione's voice was irritated.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Who do you want to be in our group?" she asked slightly impatiently.  
  
"Our group?"  
  
Her eyes narrowed.  
  
"We're doing a project on Unicorns mate." Ron told me hastily. "Four people in a group."  
  
Oh. Had I missed all that? When had Hadgrid even arrived?  
  
"Hey Malfoy!" Hermione called across the class.  
  
"Hermione!" Ron hissed.  
  
"Oh shut up Ron." she told him in exasperation.  
  
Stunned, Ron closed his mouth.  
  
Stunned, I opened mine to speak.  
  
"Yes Granger?" Malfoy's voice rang across the paddock, cutting off anything I had been about to say.  
  
She beckoned him over and after a small hesitation he jumped from his position on the fence and moved towards us.  
  
He raised an eyebrow. "Was there something you wanted?"  
  
"Do you want to be our fourth person?" Hermione offered.  
  
Ron, Malfoy and I all looked at her in shock.  
  
"Well there's an odd number of Slytherins today and I don't really fancy working with Crabbe or Goyle." Hermione answered the silent question.  
  
"Rather them than that –" Ron yelped as Hermione's elbow jabbed him in the ribs.  
  
Malfoy's lips turned up slightly into a curve. "I would adore to work with you and your group Granger." his voice held a pure sardonic amusement. 'It would definitely be my pleasure.'  
  
Oh crap. I'm sure I'd decidedly told Hermione that I really never ever wanted to see Malfoy again as long as I lived. So what the hell was she doing and why the hell was she doing it? Did everyone in this universe get pleasure out of tormenting me?  
  
Warped the lot of them.  
  
You'd think that considering I was trying to save their asses they'd be a little nicer. Or at least not so desperately cruel as to make me work with Malfoy.  
  
An hour later we were in the library (a place I seemed to be spending an awful lot of time recently), attempting to find every possible piece of information about unicorns.  
  
Of course my life being as it is Hermione and Ron were finding books which could plausibly contain information. Leaving me and Malfoy ploughing through aforesaid books.  
  
Together.  
  
Alone.  
  
Feeling extremely nervous for reasons I couldn't fathom I proceeded to talk as much and as quickly as I could, not wanting the consequences that silence could bring.  
  
And to my surprise I found myself enjoying Malfoy's company.  
  
I mean that night I thought it had just been the fact that we were both plastered that meant we were actually having a good time. I didn't actually think it was because we fundamentally did get on well, and it was only then that we let ourselves.  
  
But now, forced into a situation that demanded conversation I found myself beginning to actually like Malfoy. I mean, now that he wasn't being an insufferable prick there was nothing stopping us being friends.  
  
"Potter what exactly are you thinking about?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Well this is the first time you've been actually paused for breath in the last forty minutes and I was just wondering what was so thrilling that it caused you to realise your oxygen dependency."  
  
"I was just thinking," I paused for a breath, realising that oxygen really was a good thing "that you're not as bad as you make people think you are."  
  
Malfoy looked at me silently for a moment. "No. I'm much worse." he turned back to his book.  
  
"I'm serious Dra-Malfoy." Oops where'd that come from?  
  
His eyes flickered to me at the slip but he didn't comment.  
  
"I mean . . . you make out like you're this really tough guy but really you're . . ."  
  
"A fluffy little kitten?" he offered, sarcastically.  
  
I debated it seriously, watching his face pale slightly as I seemed to be considering that the answer was yes. "Nah kittens have claws."  
  
"Are you implying I don't?"  
  
I shrugged. "If the sorting hat fits . . ." I trailed off mischievously. He bristled. "I'll have you know Potter that I have many, many claws." his voice was almost a snarl.  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Don't believe me?" he sidled closer, "do you want me to show you?"  
  
A sexy smirk (no not sexy! Just a smirk! A standard Malfoy sexy smirk. Damn. I give up) curved the corners of his lips upwards and an expression of seduction (that I'm allowed to say – no influence from my hormones there) simmering in his eyes.  
  
"I-uh – I –I – "  
  
See silence is bad!!! Look what it led to!  
  
_Stuttering?_  
  
No! Malfoy looking as though he's about to – about to –  
  
_About to?_  
  
How would I know? It's not as though I have a great deal of experience. All I know is that it doesn't look like he's about to bake cookies.  
  
"Come on Potter," he whispered breathily, "you know you want to."  
  
Frozen into place I watched him as a rabbit watched an approaching car.  
  
Unable to think.  
  
Unable to breathe.  
  
Unable to do anything but wait as he moved closer and closer.  
  
Feeling his warmth. Hearing his heart beat. My eyes fluttered shut and I swallowed nervously, unsure what was happening but (somewhere deep inside of me) not wanting it to end.  
  
"Harry?" Hermione's hesitant, slightly alarmed voice broke in.  
  
My eyes flew open and I jerked my head round, realising that both her and Ron were standing at the end of the shelves, looking extremely traumatised.  
  
"Harry what are you doing?" Ron's voice was full of a horrified numbness, his eyes darting between me and Dra-Malfoy.  
  
"What? Nothing!" I leapt away from Dra – Malfoy, fully aware what it looked like.  
  
"You looked like you were – " Ron stopped, obviously unable to even put it into words.  
  
Hermione's eyes had narrowed suspiciously. "Malfoy can I talk to you for a minute?" she hissed.  
  
He coughed nervously. "Sure go ahead."  
  
Her eyes almost merged into one and the threat in them made even Malfoy behave.  
  
"Ok." Malfoy stood resignedly and followed her out of the aisle of books, leaving me alone with Ron.  
  
Leaving me alone with a Ron who couldn't even look at me. "Uhh . . . Harry?"  
  
"Yes Ron?" Resigned to my fate I waited for him to start verbally (perhaps leading to physically) bashing Malfoy.  
  
"Are you gay?" he asked bluntly.  
  
I did an well perfected impersonation of a fish.  
  
Gay? Me? There was not a chance. I mean I wasn't. I just wasn't. And for my own best friend to ask me –  
  
Ron misinterpreted my silence. "Because you know if you are that's cool. I mean it's not cool, but it's perfectly fine. I mean you know me and Mione would never stop being your friends. In fact you know I think Mione would like it if you were gay because then she'd have someone to talk to about guys and stuff."  
  
"Ron – "  
  
"And in fact I think it'd be quite helpful really because then you could find out whether I even have the slightest chance with Mione. Plus then I wouldn't have to worry about her falling in love with you because that just wouldn't work! And Hermione's too smart to fall in love with a gay guy. So you see it's better for all of us."  
  
"Ron – "  
  
"Although you know, I really think you need to develop better taste in guys. I mean there's dozens of guys at Hogwarts who would love to go out with you. Justin. What about Justin? I mean he's got to be gay right? Or Seamus. You get on with Seamus don't you? It's just . . . Malfoy Harry? What's so bloody great about Malfoy? That's the problem here. Seamus sure, Justin yeah. Hell even Zabini. But Malfoy??? I really thought that you of all people would – "  
  
That was it.  
  
"Ron for fuck's sake – I am not gay!!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, frustration causing the volume of my voice to increase.  
  
Silence.  
  
With sudden horror I realised that yes, we were in a public place, and yes, I had just yelled that at the top of my lungs, yes, everyone had heard me and yes I wanted to go throw myself of the astronomy tower in mortification.  
  
I felt sick.  
  
"Ok Harry." Ron said mildly.  
  
The library burst into excited whispers.  
  
Oh this could not be happening. This could **not **be happening.  
  
This was Malfoy's fault. All of it.  
  
If it hadn't been for him and his damn perfect hair and his damn sexy smirk and that drawl that sent shivers down my spine then I wouldn't have –  
  
. . .  
  
Perfect? Sexy??  
  
Oh shit.  
  
I was gay.  
  
Not only that. But I had a crush on Draco Malfoy.  
  
Life just sucked.  
  
  
  
  
  
Thanks for reading!!!  
  
Please, please, please review!! 


	6. Chapter 6

  
  
Ok now it's going to be a bit confusing later on. Harry's kinda having some internal debates.  
  
One voice – Harry's POV reason voice is in _italics_  
  
The other voice – Harry's mischievous, Draco loving voice is in **_bold italics  
_**  
  
  
Apple314159 – I'm glad you liked it but impatient much! Lol. I'm probably only going to be updating once a week for the next couple of weeks but after that I'll be updating pretty regularly. But anyway – here's your update!  
  
outdone-cyrusly – It's not gonna be that easy for Harry and Draco I'm sorry to say – Harry's a little . . . stubborn I guess. Thanks for reviewing!  
  
SpazMcG7 – Lol. 'Mine' was twisted?? Well ok . . . maybe a tad but still. Wait and see where this one is going before you use the word 'twisted' about 'Mine' (only kidding – kinda) Thanks loads for your review(s)  
  
Draco-Is-A-God – Draco is kinda messed up in the head about Harry. Part of him knows he has to stay away from him so that he doesn't kill him and the other part just wants to be as close to Harry as possible. If it's confusing throughout the fic it's because both Draco and Harry are confused. Thanks for reviewing!!  
  
HironiKoshinha – Don't worry I'm not about to forget about this fic again. I may at points become stuck on it but I will not forget. Thanks for reviewing.  
  
Linda – I'm really glad you like the story but I really recommend that you read 'Mine' because this stories going to refer to it a lot. Thanks for reviewing!  
  
TheFaePrincess – Yay!!! A waffle!!! How I love waffles! Thanks for your review! Keep reading!!  
  
Thanks to everyone else who reviewed – you're all so great!! I just wish I had time to reply to you all personally.  
  
  
  
**Draco POV**  
  
I followed Granger, nerves growing in the pit of my stomach as we weaved through endless bookshelves.  
  
She was taking me somewhere to murder me.  
  
To a place far, far away from everyone else where she could Avada Kedavra me to her heart's content for my stupidity.  
  
What I'd done was stupid; I knew that and I didn't even bother lying to myself about it. How was I supposed to defend myself when I agreed with everything Granger would say?  
  
We finally came to a halt and I braced myself as Granger whirled around, fire in her eyes. "What," she snapped, "was that about?"  
  
I paused, deciding which defence strategy to take.  
  
Eventually I adopted a look of complete innocence, plastering my features with puzzlement. "What was what about?"  
  
Her face darkened and I winced.  
  
_Ok apparently Granger doesn't like the denial of any wrongdoing approach._  
  
"Don't you take that innocent tone with me Draco Malfoy!! I'm not stupid!! What you were doing then was a total breach of everything you were supposed to be doing!! You're supposed to be watching Harry to make sure he's ok not attempting to stick your tongue down his throat at every available opportunity!!"  
  
Wow. She could actually inject exclamation marks into what she's saying. I could practically see them floating around her head.  
  
"What do you have to say for yourself?" she barked finally. "Well?"  
  
"I...well...I forgot." I answered pathetically.  
  
"You forgot?" her tone was dangerous.  
  
"Yes." I answered honestly.  
  
And it was true.  
  
I had taken one look in his eyes and the world had melted away. I forgot about Voldemort, forgot about the Order . . . forgot about what I'd done. The only thing I'd seen was him.  
  
I just wanted him. So much that it hurt me that I wasn't touching him, kissing him . . . loving him. The pain lodged uncomfortably in my heart and with every beat a thousand explosions of pain resounded through me.  
  
He was so beautiful. So perfect. The way that a flush of pink coloured his skin everytime I teased him. How much I wanted to see how far that flush extended. To remove every item of clothing that hid him from my view. To trace every inch of his blush with my tongue. To taste every –  
  
"Draco!" Granger's voice broke through.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Could you return to reality please? I'm trying to lecture you." The anger had fled from her voice, leaving wry amusement. "I realise that Harry must be fun to daydream about but I really need your brain here right now."  
  
I flushed slightly, more because she caught me than because of my thoughts.  
  
"I know you're going through a hard time here but we really need you to keep it together so that Harry comes through this war alive. You're not alone Draco. Friends help each other and I don't intend to just leave you floundering in this mess. I mean – "  
  
I cocked an eyebrow. "Friends?"  
  
"Uhmm . . . yeah." she seemed slightly hesitant.  
  
"Are you calling us friends Granger?"  
  
"You seem to need one rather desperately; you have at least 10 vacancies in that department. I figured that I could fill at least one of those posts."  
  
I thought about it for a moment. "I'd like that." "Really?" she asked, "I wasn't sure, you know with the whole 'Mudblood' thing." For the nickname I had called for years, she adopted my own voice scarily well.  
  
"I've grown past that."  
  
"How magnanimous of you."  
  
"Indeed."  
  
"But us being friends doesn't mean I'm going to go easy on you for this whole attempting to kiss Harry business."  
  
I sighed, deciding there were a few things I needed to tell her. "Look Granger – "  
  
"Hermione." she interrupted. "If you call me 'Granger' one more time I will hit you so hard that house elves will be swing dancing in circles around your head for days." her voice showed no signs of her joking.  
  
I blinked at the image, remembering far too well exactly how talented this girl was at punching.  
  
"Hermione," I started again, "I know that I shouldn't have done that but I – I just couldn't not do it." I winced slightly at the incorrectness of my grammar.  
  
"But at the end of the day it doesn't really matter because he's never going to love me. He's never even going to look at me twice. He hates me! I have about as much effect on him as a slug does to a lettuce; yeah the lettuce notices it's there but only because it leaves a trail of slime across it."  
  
The bitterness in my voice caused a flicker of worry in her eyes but when she spoke her tone was free from all concern.  
  
"I would hardly call you a slug Draco. For a start you're far too good looking to be compared to a slime infested creature with antennae. And Harry really isn't the lettuce type. He's not the slightest bit green and really is far to active to be at all lettuce like. Although his brain activity at times is slightly reminiscent of one. But all in all that's a pretty crap analogy. You're slipping Draco I would have expected better."  
  
"Hermione," my voice was amused, "did you call me good looking?"  
  
She reddened slightly with embarrassment. "Oh honestly! Was that the only part you listened to??"  
  
My smirk answered her question.  
  
"Boys!! You're all the same! The second someone offers you a compliment you latch onto it like a dog with a bone."  
  
"But Hermione," I said with mock seriousness, struggling to contain my laughter, "Don't you know I'm _far too good looking_ to be compared to a canine creature that walks on four legs?"  
  
"Oh shut up you obnoxious little ferret!" The deepening of her redness undermined any chance of her words being taken seriously.  
  
I grinned. "Right back at you, you little Gryffindork bookworm. You know you just want me for," I struck a pose, "my sexy Slytherin body."  
  
It was too much for both of us to take and we collapsed into laughter, supporting ourselves against the bookshelves to stop from falling.  
  
Then through our laughter cut a loud voice that we both knew extremely well.  
  
"Ron for fuck's sake – I'm not gay!!"  
  
Harry's voice echoed throughout the library. A startled silence fell across the two of us, his words abruptly ending our laughter.  
  
Hermione and I looked at each other in shock. I didn't know what to say. Didn't even know what to think.  
  
"Well slime-boy," Hermione said finally with a small smile, "you may be having a bigger effect on Harry the lettuce than you thought."  
  
And with those (slightly offensive) words, Hermione strolled back through the bookshelves, leaving me to contemplate and curse my rather complicated existence.

* * *

**Harry POV  
**  
After my rather unfortunate, untimely and slightly depressing realisation that I was –  
  
_Interested in having crazy monkey sex with guys all night long until you can't even walk the next day?  
  
Liable to spy on your Quidditch team mates in the showers?  
  
Longing to get down on your knees and –  
_  
- gay, I had come to one very important decision; No matter what happened to me in life I would stay away from Draco Malfoy if it was the last thing I did.  
  
However I had somewhat underestimated the fact that he was A) My Potions partner, B) Hermione's new best friend and C) Absolutely bloody everywhere I went.  
  
Those three things being the case I had slightly revised the plan.  
  
As I was being forced by Snape, Hermione and Fate to spend time with Draco Malfoy I had had to come up with a list of do's and don'ts.  
  
**Do:**

1) Ignore Draco Malfoy as much as you can (but not to the point where Snape, Hermione or Fate can hurt you for it)  
  
2) Pay attention to as many other things as you can  
  
3) Fantasise about other female people (unless your inner voice starts bullying you in which case it is permissible for you to admit your gayness and resort to fantasising about Justin Finch – Fletcherly)  
  
**Don't: **

1) Speak to Draco Malfoy unless you can help it (for fear of what may emerge from your mouth)  
  
2) Listen to Draco Malfoy or any perverted things that emerge from his mouth  
  
3) Look at Draco Malfoy directly (If he must be looked at then look at him in a reflective surface for no more than five seconds)  
  
4) Let any fantasy about Draco Malfoy even begin to form in your mind in any circumstance (If this happens then beat your head against any surface which is not Draco Malfoy until you don't know who you are and have no recollection of him)  
  
5) Stand, sit, lie or walk within 10 feet of Draco Malfoy (with the exception of in Potions class)  
  
6) Do not accidentally (or purposefully) touch Draco Malfoy or let him touch you (TOTALLY FORBIDDEN!!!!)  
  
7) Let Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, or in fact any living person, creature or inanimate object (excluding the piece of paper on which these rules are written) know how you are affected by Draco Malfoy.  
  
I was fairly satisfied with the rules although they were a work in progress. This way I was fully clear what behaviour was and was not acceptable.  
  
Although I did end up obsessing about the list a little too much for me to completely accept my sanity.  
  
**_Sanity? What sanity?_**  
  
Even now when I was, in the Gryffindor changing rooms, readying myself to go into the first Quidditch match of the year against none other than Slytherin I was thinking about it. Of course that was probably because Malfoy was playing and therefore the rules had to be firmly embedded –  
  
**_Like you want to be with Malfoy_**  
  
- in my mind so that I didn't slip up.  
  
In my concentration on the rules (and pacing) I stepped on my broom. Which of course then proceeded to attempt to hurt me as much as I hurt it.  
  
"What the hell?" Ron squinted in amazement at the pitch. "Harry I think you better see this."  
  
"You know . . ." I ducked as the broom made a swipe at me, "I'm a bit pre- occupied at the minute Ron."  
  
"Honestly. You **need** to see this."  
  
Keeping one eye on my broom's antics I joined Ron at the window.  
  
"What?" I snapped irritably seeing nothing amiss.  
  
Ron pointed and I followed the line of his finger to Malfoy.  
  
I looked at Ron suspiciously. Why did I **need** to see Malfoy? Was Ron conspiring with my inner voice?  
  
"Ron I already told you that I don't like Malfoy ok?" I hissed. "Why won't you just let it go?? I don't like him! Will you get that through your head??"  
  
Ron snorted with laughter. "Uhmm ok Harry but that wasn't exactly what I meant."  
  
"Oh." _Damn me and my stupid reactions_. "What did you mean then?"  
  
He sighed and pointed again.  
  
I squinted out the window and suddenly realised that Malfoy was not in the position of a Seeker but of a Chaser.  
  
**_Because you'd know all about Malfoy's positions._**  
  
_Oh just shut up._  
  
"That's suicide!" Ron exclaimed. "They don't even have a hope of winning without Malfoy as seeker."  
  
"Unless they know something we don't." I murmured.  
  
"Like what? Some enormous evil curse is going to blow up both the Seekers and they didn't want their precious Malfoy getting killed?"  
  
Evil curse?  
  
Blow up both the Seekers?  
  
Oh crap.  
  
"Thanks for that Ron." I scowled. "Ow!" I turned angrily to my broom which had finally succeeded in hitting me over the head. Its mission achieved, it lay obediently back on the floor.  
  
"Anyway on that positive note I think you should go out now Harry." Ron informed me. "They're about to start any minute."  
  
Grabbing my now docile broom I ran outside realising that the whistle was halfway to Madame Hooch's lips and Angelina was beginning to look rather pissed off at me.  
  
I just hoped that the reason that Malfoy was a Chaser had nothing to do with the disembowelment of the Seekers  
  
Minutes after the game started I found myself unable to take my eyes of Malfoy.  
  
He was incredible. There was no other word to describe it. I'd never seen a Chaser that talented.  
  
I caught Ron's eyes and he desperately mimed that I should close my mouth.  
  
I hadn't even been aware it had been open.  
  
He scored endless goals with apparent ease, causing mass pileups behind him as players trying to catch him ploughed into one another.  
  
I jerked myself out of my trance as I realised the lengths of the lead that Slytherin had, attempting to desperately find the snitch.  
  
Minutes crawled by as a I searched until I finally saw the snitch and shot after it, knowing that if I didn't catch it within about ten seconds then we'd lose for sure.  
  
My hand outstretched I inched closer towards the snitch, finding no competition from whatever idiot the Slytherins had put into Malfoy's old position.  
  
"'Slytherin 150!" The commentator bellowed.  
  
Belatedly my hand clasped the snitch.  
  
"And Harry Potter has caught the snitch!!"  
  
Suddenly the entire stadium silenced, realisation dawning simultaneously for each person.  
  
Oh shit.  
  
We'd just drawn with Slytherin.  
  
For the first time since I'd been playing we hadn't won a game (with exceptions of me being unconscious etc).  
  
_WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON WITH MY LIFE??? FIRST OF ALL I'M GAY AND NOW I'M NOT A WINNER ANYMORE!!!! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT DRACO MALFOY! IF IT WASN'T FOR THE FACT THAT IT WOULD BREAK 'DON'T' RULES 3, 5 AND 6 THEN I WOULD WRAP MY HANDS AROUND YOUR THROAT AND STRANGLE YOU!!!_  
  
**_Then what would you do?_**  
  
_THEN I'D GRAB YOU AND THROW YOU AGAINST THE WALL WHERE I'D PROCEED TO THROUGHLY RAVISH – hey! You tricked me damn inner voice!!!_  
  
Fuming I landed on the pitch and stormed towards the Gryffindor changing rooms.  
  
A tingling feeling in my spine alerted me to the fact that Malfoy was approaching. I spun around, readying myself to run if he entered within ten feet of me (I take my rules very seriously), only to find him standing less than three feet away.  
  
I jumped away before realising that people would think I was afraid of Malfoy. This not being an image I wanted to project I instantly jumped back to my previous spot in a perfect imitation of a frog.  
  
_Great. Harry the Frog Potter . . . it can be my new nickname.  
_  
I steeled myself for the mocking taunts and smugness that I knew were about to emerge from Malfoy's mouth. I really was not in the mood for this.  
  
"Good game Potter." he smiled at me- a warm smile that held none of the arrogance I was expecting and rather hoping for. "Congratulations." he stretched his hand out to me.  
  
I looked at it suspiciously.  
  
I had two choices:  
  
1 – Turn around and walk away thereby not breaking any rules, yet seeming like a sore loser and allowing Hermione to kill me.  
  
2 – Take his hand, be polite, break at least 6 rules, thereby losing all pride in yourself and yet meaning that Hermione will not kill me and I will seem like a gracious loser.  
  
Malfoy's hand withdrew slightly and I realised that I had been debating this for far too long.  
  
"Congratulations." I returned quickly, seizing his hand and shaking it enthusiastically before it fell to his side. "We thought that it was madness without you being the Seeker but it turns out it was a good move."  
  
_**Oh yes Draco's a very good mover.**_  
  
I scowled at my inner voice. See! That was why I had rules! I say one thing to him and already my brain's finding innuendo.  
  
"I had a hunch." he said with a smile. "Didn't really think it was going to pay off but it obviously did."  
  
He hadn't let go of my hand yet and I was trying to ignore the electric shocks in every part of my body.  
  
"Are you ok about this?" he asked seriously.  
  
"About you holding my hand?" I blurted before I could think it through.  
  
He looked like he was having trouble trying not to laugh. "About us drawing."  
  
"Oh." I flushed red.  
  
Oh God it just got worse and worse. This conversation was just going to prove the need for the rules in the first place.  
  
I wanted to die.  
  
I honestly truly wanted to die.  
  
I was considering chucking myself off my broom when I realised he was waiting for an answer.  
  
"Better than losing." I said brightly, hoping that he'd forgotten what I'd said.  
  
No such luck.  
  
A smirk spread across his face. "Better than me holding your hand?" there was a flirtatious challenge in his voice.  
  
"Uh . . . I – I . . . uhh . . ."  
  
**_My you're eloquent. Is this something that happened along with the whole gay thing?_**  
  
_I'm not gay_  
  
**_(Rolls eyes) We've talked about this  
_**  
_Fine! I may be gay but that has nothing to do with my eloquence_  
  
_**So you're just this eloquent when it comes to your crushes?**_  
  
_I do not have a crush on Draco Malfoy_  
  
**_So you write do and don't lists for every person you meet?_**  
  
_Look . . . do not push me here. You've got me to admit that I'm gay, why don't we leave it for the day?_  
  
_**So you admit that there's more to admit?**_  
  
_No!!! That's not what I meant!_  
  
**_But that's what you said. Sounds like a Freudian slip to me._**  
  
_Well it wasn't.  
  
**So you said it on purpose?**  
  
No! Oh shut up! You're twisting what I'm saying  
  
**I'm not twisting anything. I'm just attempting to root the truth out of your disturbed and damn confusing thoughts**  
  
You are my thoughts!!!  
  
**So why won't you trust me on this one?**  
  
Because I have stupid thoughts and I don't trust them one little bit.  
  
**I'll have you know that –**  
_  
"Uhh Potter?"  
  
My head snapped up and I realised that I'd forgotten that Malfoy was still standing there.  
  
"Yeah?" I responded with as good a semblance at normality as I could.  
  
"Are you still alive?"  
  
"Oh how I wish I wasn't." I muttered.  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Oh. Ok." he paused slightly, scuffing the dirt with his shoe. "I was just wondering . . ."  
  
Well don't! Don't 'just wonder' – that always signals danger. Danger with a capital 'D'.  
  
"You were just wondering . . ." I prompted.  
  
Jeez I was a sucker for punishment.  
  
**_Nope. You just want to be a sucker for Draco Malfoy,_**  
  
Eww. Eww. Ewwwwwwww. I have nothing to say other than that.  
  
"Whether you needed tutoring in Potions anymore."  
  
Well obviously the answer to that question was yes. And if the marks I got on the last Potions test were anything to go by then Malfoy really was the best person to help me.  
  
"Uhmm . . ." I replied intelligently.  
  
"I'm free tomorrow at seven." he offered.  
  
Let's think – whether or not to spend time in a dark empty library with the bane of my existence.  
  
"I . . . have . . . Quidditch practice." I said slowly.  
  
"No you don't."  
  
I jumped. Damn. Where had Hermione come from? Why oh why did she have to uncover my lie???  
  
"Yes I do." I ground out, meaningfully hinting at her with my eyes.  
  
"No you don't." she repeated promptly with a sweet smile.  
  
Malfoy hid a smirk and I sent him a quick glare before directing a longer one at Hermione. They were probably in on this together. I didn't know why Hermione wanted to torment me like this but it was probably Malfoy's fault.  
  
That was probably why they were friends! He had her under some sort of 'be evil to Harry' spell that meant that she therefore thought he was wonderful because all he ever did was be evil to Harry . . . I mean . . . me.  
  
God I was confusing myself.  
  
"So you're free to go and study with Malfoy right Harry?" Hermione asked happily.  
  
"No!" I snapped immediately.  
  
There was a second of silence and then Hermione spoke, her voice so even and calm that I knew I was in dangerous territory. "Why not Harry?"  
  
'This better be good' was the message that lurked behind her words.  
  
"Because I - " I sighed, "Because I'm just not ok!"  
  
"Fine." Malfoy's tone was clipped and cold. "Don't force yourself to do anything which will inconvenience you Potter."  
  
"Draco – " Hermione interjected hastily.  
  
"You can fail for all I fucking care Potter." he hissed. "Why should I give a shit?"  
  
"I don't know," I retorted, "why should you?"  
  
Immense anger in his eyes he turned on his heel and stormed across the pitch.  
  
"Is there something the fucking matter with you Harry?" Hermione snapped. "He's just trying to be your fucking friend and you just went and threw it back in his face."  
  
I realised with some shock that Hermione had just sworn twice.  
  
"I always thought you were a nice, kind person. Obviously I was very much mistaken."  
  
"Hermione!" I exclaimed, "it's just Malfoy for fuck's sake!"  
  
"Oh that's ok then." The sarcasm in her voice stung me slightly. "Let's be as rude as possible because 'it's only Malfoy'. Let's try and hurt him as much as we can because 'it's only Malfoy'!! Let's fucking pretend he's not a person with as many feelings as you or I," she took a look at me and scowled, "or me at least. Because hey – 'it's only Malfoy'!!!" her voice had reached a pitch and volume that pierced my eardrum and those of the people within a 10 mile radius of us. "How old are you exactly Harry? I would have thought by now that you were mature and gracious enough to bury the hatchet."  
  
"I am!" I defended myself.  
  
Her eyes narrowed. "Then go and apologise to him."  
  
"No!"  
  
"Now." she stressed. "Before I lose every piece of respect I ever had for you not to mention before I kill you."  
  
I scowled and reluctantly turned to walk after Malfoy, cursing him repeatedly underneath my breath.  
  
How had he managed to get that far that quickly?  
  
I broke into a jog realising that I would not otherwise be able to catch up with him. Halfway across the pitch it dawned on me that I still wouldn't catch up with him in time.  
  
"Malfoy!" I shouted, my voice echoing across the field.  
  
He turned slightly and seeing it was me, continued walking.  
  
I sighed. "Malfoy will you fucking wait??"  
  
If anything he speeded up.  
  
Now who was being unreasonable?  
  
"Malfoy!!" I snapped.  
  
Oh this was ridiculous.  
  
I poured all my energy into running as fast as I possible could, and then tackled him.  
  
We landed on the floor with a loud thud and I winced in pain at the collision with the ground.  
  
When my brain clicked back to attention I realised that Malfoy and I were entangled on the floor. So close. I could just reach over and –  
  
I leapt to my feet determined not to let my thoughts distract me.  
  
**_Now why would they do that if you don't like Malfoy?_**  
  
"What the fuck are you doing Potter?" he snapped, struggling to his feet.  
  
"Malfoy – study – want – sorry – " I panted, unable to catch my breath.  
  
"Pardon?" he snapped.  
  
"I wanted – to say – that I'm sorry." I managed.  
  
He looked sceptical. "You're sorry?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"Actually sorry?" he pressed.  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"So Hermione didn't send you to apologise to me with the threat of death if you didn't?"  
  
I hesitated and in that split second he shook his head and made as if to move away.  
  
"But that doesn't mean that I'm not actually sorry!" I exclaimed desperately.  
  
He turned back to me and folded his arms. "Prove it."  
  
"Malfoy I'd," I held back from rolling my eyes, "I'd love to study with you. It would be my pleasure."  
  
_Perhaps even slightly too much.  
_  
His eyes darkened. "Don't make it sound like you're granting me some huge concession Potter."  
  
"No I'm not." I grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving. "I would like to study with you if the offer is still open." The sincerity in that sentence caused something within me to cringe and something within his eyes to light up.  
  
"Please." I added, chewing my lip as I waited for his reply.  
  
Eventually he nodded his features blank.  
  
I released his arm in relief, exhaling slowly. "So I'll see you at seven tomorrow?" I checked.  
  
He nodded again before turning and walking away.  
  
I watched him go, frozen to the spot, the cold winter wind lashing me in the face. I had the uncomfortable feeling that there was something rather significant I was missing.  
  
I also had the even more uncomfortable feeling that perhaps my strong reaction to the situation was more due to the fact that I wanted to study with Malfoy than the fact that I didn't.  
  
I closed my eyes briefly with a sigh. I didn't understand anything anymore. Not myself, not Malfoy . . . especially not Malfoy.  
  
But I knew in the deepest part of myself that there was nothing I wanted more.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Thanks for reading! Please review! Please! Please please!!!


	7. Chapter 7

  
  
  
  
  
  
Thankyou everyone for reviewing! I literally have no time to reply to any reviews but thankyou everyone!!!  
  
Now uhh . . . this chapters a little more angsty so sorry if you like humour.  
  
The song's used later on are 'Mine' by Savage Garden and 'In the End' ((title!!! See the title has a reason!!) by Linkin Park. They are . . . amazingly . . . not mine.  
  
In the later part of the chapter there are flashbacks, inner voices and lyrics so try not to get too confused.  
  
So everyone enjoy the chapter!!! Should be . . . fun . . .  
  
  
  
The last few months had become a sort of torturous ecstasy. Frequent study sessions with Harry meant that I had a reason to be close to him.  
  
Which turned out to be . . . interesting to say the least.  
  
He had two modes.  
  
1 – Blushes at every flirtatious comment I made and occasionally cracks dirty jokes which are then followed by a look of horror that he said them out loud.  
  
2 – Ignores every single word that comes out of my mouth, refuses to look at me, bitches at me every time I force him to speak and generally is a complete asshole.  
  
He seemed to exist in the 2nd mode more and more frequently as time went on. And that was ok. He had every right to exist in whatever mode he wished. He could even invent a third if that was his wish.  
  
As long as he was alive that was fine. The whole ignoring me thing sucked but . . . I could cope with it.  
  
Hermione was a great help there. We'd become better friends than I ever could have imagined.  
  
But slowly . . . as Christmas drew nearer I was losing myself in despair. Soon would be the time that I became a spy. I had no wish to lie to those who had, until recently, been the closest things I had to friends, and a part of me balked at the thought of turning my back on all that I had been taught.  
  
Not that I believed it. Or had I?  
  
I didn't know anymore. Harry had turned my world upside down and now after a long, difficult struggle to restore it to its proper position I found that everything had changed.  
  
Nothing that I thought was where I had left it. Everything I believed, or thought I had, was scattered around in my mind suddenly seeming far less convincing than it had years earlier.  
  
I know that when you grow up you begin to have your own ideas about things but I didn't have any ideas at all. What was in my head was a confusing mix of my father's beliefs and Harry's. Which ones best fitted my own thoughts I had no idea. But my father was dead. And Harry was alive . . . here anyway. And I intended it to stay that way.  
  
My only true allegiance was to Harry, and just as in the other world he chose his side due to me, so I would live and die to his command. That was . . . if he removed his head from his ass long enough to command me.

* * *

_'Malfoy?' his voice broke through the clouds of depression in my mind.  
  
My eyes rose to his face and I felt a pang of longing echo through me.  
  
'Malfoy?' he repeated, a mix of irritation and worry in his voice.  
  
I regarded him silently, feeling to distant to even manage to speak.  
  
He chewed his bottom lip slightly, an uncomfortable emotion playing on his face.  
  
'Malfoy?' his voice had become gentle and his hand began to move towards me.  
  
I watched its movement towards my arm. His fingers stopped a fraction of a second before they met my skin. I could feel the heat of his fingertips and was so aware of his fingers that if I closed my eyes I could almost pretend...  
  
He jerked his hand back, coldness freezing the features of his face into a frown. 'Just get on with this will you?' he snapped.  
  
And the dream faded and I was left with an irritable Harry Potter who seemed to become more and more difficult to deal after every event when his nastiness wavered.  
_

* * *

I couldn't actually work out whether I was fucking more with his head or my own. I had a suspicion that those study lessons that were the highlight of my week, were slowly killing us both inside. Though I had no idea as to why that would be.  
  
"I don't want to go." I said stubbornly, folding my arms in a traumatically childish move.  
  
"Oh come on Draccy." Pansy whined, her bottom lip sticking out half a mile. 'It'll be fun.'  
  
"I don't want to go." I repeated, keeping my eyes moving over the holly, the tinsel and every bit of tacky Christmas decoration that Hogwarts possessed so that I would not have to look at her.  
  
"But – "  
  
"Pansy!" I exploded. "Which bit of 'I don't want to go' don't you understand? I'm not going to that fucking party and there's nothing you can do about it."  
  
She went silent, tears glittering in her eyes. Nearby Slytherins fixed me with accusing looks. (Not that I could blame them – Pansy was a nightmare when she was upset).  
  
(In a very mature act) I groaned loudly, unable to take this right now.  
  
Deciding that if I stayed here another minute I'd curse someone I leapt to my feet and stormed to my room, slamming the door behind me.  
  
The Yule Ball.  
  
The stupid Yule Ball.  
  
The stupid fucking Yule Ball.  
  
The stupid fucking Yule Ball when Harry had confessed his feelings to me.  
  
This was probably the night I had been dreading most since I arrived home.  
  
The night when every painstakingly detailed memory of our nights together would replay over and over and over and over again in my mind.  
  
I wouldn't be able to run or hide from it. There would be no-one else to talk to as they would all be at the ball so I didn't even have anything to distract myself from my thoughts.  
  
But maybe I didn't deserve anyone. I certainly didn't want anyone. I just wanted to sit there and wallow in my pain. And that was exactly what I set out to do.

* * *

There was a knock on the door.  
  
I scowled, my eyes flickering to my clock. Why wasn't who ever it was at the ball? And who the hell was it anyway?  
  
_Let me think. Who, in the other reality, came crawling to my door the night of the Yule Ball hopelessly in love with me and desperate to have me as a date?_  
  
Harry?  
  
_Yeah you wish._  
  
I groaned, wishing I could just bury my head in the pillow and ignore it. "Come in Blaise."  
  
There was a hesitant pause and the door opened. "How did you know it was me?" his voice was at one amazed and suspicious.  
  
I shrugged. "Call it a hunch." My words were tinged with wry amusement.  
  
"Oh ok." he looked extremely awkward and I sighed inwardly, knowing why he was here and also wanting him to leave.  
  
"Was there something you wanted Blaise?" I prompted.  
  
"Uhmm yeah." Nervousness flooded his features. "I was wondering if you . . . uhh. . . would maybe . . . like to go to ball with me?"  
  
Ok. I kind of expected him to rush of in embarrassment before he finished that sentence.  
  
Damn. Now I had to answer it.  
  
"Well the thing is I'm not going to the ball." I explained.  
  
Yes my name is Cinderella. Geez how stupid did I sound?  
  
"You're not going?" he repeated in surprise.  
  
"Exactly."  
  
Ten points to Slytherin.  
  
"Oh." his face fell, me having obviously just destroyed his dreams.  
  
I'd have felt bad but hey in the other world he ditched me for a bloody Hufflepuff. His love did not run that deep.  
  
"I could stay with you if you want." he offered suddenly.  
  
Was there anything I wanted less?  
  
"No!" I smiled nervously as he looked at me strangely after my slightly too instantaneous reaction. "I just mean," I coughed, "uhh I think you should go."  
  
"But why?" he looked like a child who had been denied candy and was unable to steal any.  
  
"Let's just say that I have a hunch that Justin Finch Fletcherly will be waiting for you." I rolled my eyes slightly.  
  
"You seem to be having an awful lot of hunches today." his voice was slightly suspicious.  
  
"Hmph."  
  
Strangely the monosyllabic word was enough to divert his attention.  
  
He paused. "Justin Finch Fletcherly? Really?" he seemed taken aback by the choice.  
  
"Hey he's your type not mine!" I snapped.  
  
Like I'd go for a Hufflepuff.  
  
"No! **You're** my choice. It's just you're foisting me off on him."  
  
Hmm. Poor guy seemed generally hurt. Obviously he did honestly like me before his encounter with the Hufflepuff.  
  
"Blaise," I said finally, deciding to try to ease his pain slightly (my good deed for the...century), "If I were to go to this ball...I would say it would be with you."  
  
Not out of choice...(because let's face it Harry would be) but it still probably would be. So it wasn't really a lie.  
  
"Really?" the hope in his voice made me wince.  
  
"Sure." I mean it had already happened in one reality.  
  
"Ok." he seemed appeased (and desperate to get to the Hufflepuff), "Well I better go then."  
  
"Have fun." I enthusiastically waved at him, ecstatic at the thought of him being gone.  
  
Yet strangely after the door shut I kinda wished he'd come back. This alone stuff was really boring.  
  
I tapped.  
  
I hummed.  
  
I sat.  
  
I stood.  
  
I even tried to do fucking homework. But it was no use.  
  
I needed to be out of this room.  
  
I moved towards the door, halted in my tracks as my eyes fell on a small dagger.  
  
It gleamed hypnotically and before I could even organise my thoughts enough to understand my actions, I reached out and took it, slipping it into my pocket.  
  
I stepped onto the Quidditch pitch, shivering slightly, not so much at the cold but as the eerie dejá vu of being here.  
  
And the memories hit me, bombarding me with kisses and fights and blood and pain. Memories of this night.

* * *

_ 'Dray...' he murmured softly, electricity crackling between us as he slowly closed the distance between us and kissed me.  
  
My heart flooded with shock and ecstasy swept through my body as I slid my arms around his waist.  
  
The kiss deepened and he tangled his fingers in my hair, holding me firmly so that I couldn't escape...if I'd wanted to._

* * *

My hands flew to my temples as though they could squeeze the memories from my head.  
  
I pushed them away with every ounce of strength I possessed, watching the lights in the Great Hall.  
  
Waiting for the familiar chords of music.  
  
_I wait in the darkness.  
  
Frozen winds surround my face.  
  
In the cover of darkness I can make believe it's you. _  
  
_Please God._  
  
I knew it was pointless to hope – pointless to pray but I couldn't help it.  
  
My fingers dug into my palms, part expecting to hear him behind me.  
  
_Please._  
  
I was trembling with the intensity of my longing, knowing that a part of me would die this night.  
  
The flame of my hope flickered and died as the final strains of the music faded away.  
  
Fate cannot be changed no matter what you do to time.  
  
If it had been meant to be- it would have happened.  
  
But he wasn't here.  
  
So he never would be.  
  
A flash of light from my hand caught my attention and I looked down to determine what caused it. The dagger lay in my palm.  
  
I blinked in surprise. When had I taken that out of my pocket?_It starts with one  
  
One thing, I don't know why  
  
It doesn't even matter how hard you try _

_Keep that in mind I designed this rhyme _

_To explain in due time _

_All I know _  


I sighed as I thought of Christmas, touching my forearm with the tip of the dagger and delicately tracing the pattern that would be there in a week's time.  
  
The Mark was something I'd never wanted- to be branded like an animal for a cause that I found pointless to say the least. Voldemort's sign tattooed into my soul as proclamation that I was his. His to use in any way I saw fit. But I wasn't his. Not in body mind or soul. And I never would be. I belonged to one person. And that person was not him._Time is a valuable thing _

_Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings _

_Watch it count down to the end of the day  
  
The clock ticks life away  
  
It's so unreal_

__  
  
I slowly drew it across my skin, wincing at the sudden flare of pain.  
  
Blood welled in the trail of the dagger and I watched numbly as it trickled down my arm in rivulets.  
  
The crimson blood dribbled from my fingertips, splashing on the clean slow. I'd taken away its purity. Just like I had done to Harry; covered him with the filth of my love until he could not resist Voldemort.  
  
He was better off without me.  
  
The world was better off without me; at least that way I wouldn't screw everything up.  
  
That realisation brought a jolt.  
  
I should end it.  
  
I should end it all before I destroyed him.  
  
The dagger's blade reflected the moonlight and it shone eerily in the darkness. The only light. The only hope for the world. The only route forward was death.

_Didn't look out below _

_Watch the time go right out the window_

_ Trying to hold on but I didn't even know  
  
Wasted it all just to watch you go  
_

My eyes stared at the blade, tilting it from side to side in the moonlight. And as I watched it seemed to mist over, a scene playing in it that I knew far too well.

* * *

_Green eyes gazing at me with betrayal in their depths. A wave of green light. A body falling to the floor lifelessly._

* * *

A sob tore through my body.  
  
Why? Why did I destroy everyone I loved? Why did I destroy everyone and myself in the process?_I kept everything inside _

_And even though I tried _

_It all fell apart _

_What it meant to me will _

_Eventually be a memory_

_ Of a time_  


There was nothing left to do. I had nothing. Nothing to look forward to except a life of pain and torment, a life of deceit and lies, a life where I was denied the one thing I wanted.  
  
What I wanted; what I had had was a memory. A memory that only I possessed._I tried so hard  
  
And got so far_

_ But in the end it doesn't even matter _

_I had to fall _

_To lose it all _

_But in the end it doesn't even matter_

__  
  
Who was I doing this for?  
  
Myself?  
  
The hell I was living was a clear enough answer.  
  
Harry then?  
  
But he was dead. Never to love me again. And even this one would never have a clue. This one would never see me as anyone other than the bastard who'd made his life miserable for the last four years.  
  
So who?  
  
Who the hell was I doing this for?  
  
What was my pain achieving?  
  
Did I even care anymore?

_One thing I don't know why _

_It doesn't even matter how hard you try _

_Keep that in mind I designed this rhyme _

_To remind myself how I tried so hard_

__  
  
It would never be enough. I'd done everything I could and it wasn't enough.  
  
I just wanted to forget. I wanted to have a night's sleep that wasn't tormented with nightmares. I wanted to wipe my mind clean so that I couldn't remember a single moment of my past.  
  
For now even the happiest memories of him I had were tarred by his death.  
  
They mocked me that he would never feel that way again. That the nightmare that was still my happiest dream would never be experienced again.

_In spite of the way you were mocking me _

_Acting like I was part of your property _

_Remembering all the times you've fought with me _

_I'm surprised it got so far  
_

I'd done everything I could do. I'd changed myself, the world, even time itself to make him love me all to see him die -to see his body fall lifelessly to the floor because of me.  
  
I'd destroyed us both. And though it would always remain as clear and vivid to me as the raw pain inside me, for the rest of the world it would never even have happened. They would never understand why I'd changed. Never understand what I'd given up._Things aren't the way they were before _

_You wouldn't even recognize me anymore _

_Not that you knew me back then _

_But it all comes back to me _

_In the end_

No matter what I said I still wanted him to love me. Wanted him to touch me so gently and intensely that I couldn't breathe. Wanted him to look at me just once without any barriers or pretences.  
  
A part of me had always believed that love transcends all boundaries, regardless of time or who we appeared to be.  
  
But what was the point in believing?  
  
It only made it hurt more.  
  
He didn't love me.  
  
He still hated me every bit as much as before I loved him._You kept everything inside and _

_Even though I tried it all fell apart _

_What it meant to me will _

_Eventually be a memory of a time _

____  
  
I couldn't blame him. He hadn't experience what I had. He had never seen the person I was. He didn't know me. He knew the person I used to be.  
  
He'd told me that the way we acted had to be the way it was. And I did it to make him happy.  
  
Because his happiness was everything.  
  
I was living a lie but it was the way he wanted it.  
  
He didn't want to know that the world wasn't as black and white as it seemed.  
  
He couldn't cope with the fact that I wasn't completely bad – that I was a shade of grey. Once there is one shade of grey countless others appear. And it would confuse matters. He wouldn't be able to win the war if he could see what I did. Nobody was black. Nobody was white. Everyone was grey.  
  
Including Voldemort. Including Harry.

_I tried so hard _

_And got so far _

_But in the end It doesn't even matter I had to fall _

_To lose it all _

_But in the end it doesn't even matter_

__  
  
It could end.  
  
It could all end tonight.  
  
All the pain, the torment, the nights I spent unable to think about anything other than him.  
  
I could take away the memories – stop the pain.

_I've put my trust in you _

_Pushed as far as I can go _

_For all this _

_There's only one thing you should know_

My mind made up I turned my wrist over, exposing an intricate web of veins underneath translucent skin.  
  
_I'm sorry Harry._  
  
I choked back a sob as pain clutched at my heart.  
  
_It was never meant to be this way._  
  
I took a shuddering breath in, calming myself enough so I could go through with what I was about to do.  
  
_**This isn't the way this ends**_  
  
I didn't know whether it came from the recesses of my mind, my past or my future but it stopped the path of the dagger. Poised over my wrist the dagger trembled slightly as indecision clouded my mind._I've put my trust in you  
  
Pushed as far as I can go And for all this _

_There's only one thing you should know_

__  
  
I couldn't do it.  
  
The dagger dropped from my hand, landing silently in the snow.  
  
Every time I thought about it his face swam in front of my eyes, his eyes full of despair.  
  
I loved him; cared about him more than I did about myself.  
  
I couldn't leave him to die.  
  
I had to help him- had to try to save him.  
  
The only thing he needed to know was that everything was going to be ok.  
  
He didn't need to know why or how but just that everything would be ok because I would make it that way.

_I tried so hard _

_And got so far _

_But in the end _

_It doesn't even matter I had to fall _

_To lose it all _

_But in the end it doesn't even matter_

I collapsed onto the snow, my hands burying themselves in the bitterly cold substance, the shock of the sensation breaking my trance.  
  
"Oh God." I whispered shakily, lying back in the snow, too drained to even sit up. "What am I doing?"  
  
And as I lay there in the snow, shivering in the snow I began to cry. I sobbed until the sun rose in the sky and I retched for lack of air. I sobbed until I had no more energy to continue and I simply lay back and listened to the song of the birds.  
  
The pain would never end. And that was the one belief I clung to. The only thing I could not doubt in the confusion that was my mind.

* * *

I watched the train warily.  
  
Students flooded past me, a sea of figures that laughed and smiled freely. On their way home to a holiday of candy canes and fir trees. Turkey and presents.  
  
The only present I would receive this year was the Dark Mark; my father's final, posthumous gift to me.  
  
He'd always had slightly warped tastes.  
  
If I stepped on the train then there was no going back. If I stepped on then I accepted my fate and had no-one to blame for it other than myself.  
  
I watched the large majority of the students and felt a deep longing that I was one of them. That the biggest problem I would that holiday was how to cure stomach ache after Christmas Dinner. For one I wished that I was one of the masses and wasn't a Malfoy and didn't have the stupidity to fall in love with Harry Potter and didn't own a large practically empty Manor that would not held in making me feel at ease before Christmas Day.  
  
Still . . . I couldn't even blame this one on the side of the light.  
  
Dumbledore and Snape had been far more inquisitive about my wishes to go ahead with this than I expected. Personally if I was in their position I'd have accepted my offer far more quickly than appropriate and then never double-checked for fear of them backing out.  
  
Because I wanted to. I desperately wanted to back out.  
  
But . . . I mean what was I supposed to tell them; 'I know that I'm really your last hope here but I really don't want to do this'?  
  
I don't think anyone really **wants** to be a spy it's just something that needs to be done. For the war to be won. For Harry to stay alive I needed to be a spy.  
  
So I assured them that I'd lived through receiving the Dark Mark once before and could certainly do it again.  
  
And they'd accepted that.  
  
But I couldn't help but remember the first time. The choking fear as Voldemort took your arm; a sensation akin to plunging your arm into a freezing cold container of wriggling insects. The fierce pain as the Mark charred into your skin, the acrid smell of burning flesh causing vomit to rise up your throat.  
  
So was it any wonder I hadn't stepped onto the train yet?  
  
"Aren't you getting on?" Hermione's voice appeared at my ears and I jumped slightly.  
  
"I don't know." I replied slowly, knowing instinctively that she understood the significance of me getting on the train.  
  
"You can't wait here forever."  
  
"I know . . . I just . . . can't . . . not yet."  
  
She nodded and we stood there in silence, watching the train as though it was the most interesting thing in the world (a position I'd saved for Harry).  
  
"Fuck it," I said suddenly, "come on let's get on."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"If I don't do it now I never will." I seized her hand and began to drag her on the train at top speed, refusing to stop, think or breathe before I was safely contained in a compartment.  
  
Triumphantly I slid the compartment door shut behind us, congratulating myself on my success.  
  
I sat on the seat, deciding to reward myself with a breath.  
  
I breathed in and instantly felt tendrils of panic consume me.  
  
Luckily it seemed Hermione was perfectly prepared for me to freak out.  
  
"I can't do this." I felt sick as the words left my mouth; confessing my biggest fear did nothing to extinguish it.  
  
"You can." Hermione said firmly, her eyes fixed on mine. "You can do this. Just remember why you're doing it."  
  
"But what if I don't? What if it corrupts me? What if they turn me against you all? What if I change sides? What if I hurt you? What if I hurt Harry?" My stream of questions continued until I paused for breath.  
  
"Then Harry will kill you." she stepped closer to me, my shock allowing her to speak. "Listen Draco, I swear to you that you won't hurt him. Whatever happens I believe you can handle it. You're the strongest person I've ever known."  
  
"Strong?" I snorted derisively, feeling a mad panic bubble up inside me. "You think I'm strong?" A laugh that sounded more like a sob, "I thought you were never wrong about anything. Do you want to know how strong I am? I tried to commit suicide."  
  
She flinched slightly, her face turning pale.  
  
"How strong am I now? I looked at my life, into my future and saw nothing. Nothing to live for, just fear and pain and guilt. Emotions which will gnaw at me until I go insane. And I was going to end it. I wasn't strong enough to even contemplate my future let alone live it. I wanted to die."  
  
"And did you?" she asked calmly.  
  
"What?" I frowned.  
  
"Did you commit suicide?" she elaborated patiently.  
  
My eyebrows rose slightly. "Winner of the most stupid question of the year award, of course I didn't. I think I'd be slightly more transparent than I am." The sarcasm in my voice made me feel slightly more at ease.  
  
"Exactly."  
  
I looked at her in confusion. "What??"  
  
She stepped closer, and when she spoke it was firm and comforting, "There's nothing weak about wanting to die. What would have been weak was if you had done. But you didn't. Don't you understand? By living you picked the hardest road there was for you to take. And that took courage. More courage than I think I would have. So don't stand there and tell me that you're not strong. Because by standing there in the first place you've shown that you are."  
  
I paused, feeling all my defiance flee from my body.  
  
"I'm afraid." I whispered softly, feeling tears prick at my eyes.  
  
She sighed, closing her eyes briefly. 

"We all are. When I go to bed at night I dream of death. I see everyone I love die over and over again and I can't stop it. When Harry sleeps he sees what Voldemort sees, what he feels, what he thinks. He wakes up screaming every night. And Ron..." she shook her head sadly, "he's already lost a brother to the same degree as death. But he keeps going. Keeps fighting. I know you don't like him, but his faith in Harry has not wavered through everything that happens to us. He'd die for him. Like I would. Like you would. If you weren't afraid I'd think you were crazy. This war holds roles for all of us that are inevitable. We're just taking ours a little sooner than everyone else. And it's hard. It's so hard that sometimes I can't even think of living through tomorrow. But we're living to fight. We're fighting to even have a tomorrow. So don't tell me that you're not strong. Don't tell me that we're not going to get through all this. And don't you fucking dare even think about committing suicide ever again. Because I need you to get through this. I can't do this without you."  
  
She broke off, swallowing back the tears, her fingers clenched into a fist.  
  
I sighed, stepping forward and enfolding her in my arms. "I'm sorry." I said softly.  
  
"I don't want an apology. I want a promise." A tear slid silently down her face. "Promise me that whatever happens you won't die."  
  
"I can't exactly make that promise." I smiled at her as she drew back slightly, her eyes red from crying.  
  
"You know what I mean. Promise." she pressed.  
  
I smiled at her, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "I promise."  
  
Relief in her eyes she hugged me again.  
  
The door to the compartment slid open revealing Harry.  
  
His face darkened at the sight of us.  
  
"Sorry to interrupt." he said with cold sarcasm in his voice, a flash of jealousy appearing on his face.  
  
Jealousy? Why would Harry be jealous?  
  
A flash of hope appeared in me that it was because Hermione and I had been hugging. Maybe he did feel the same way and he just had a funny, cold, distant way of showing it.  
  
"That's ok Harry, Draco and I were just . . . talking."  
  
"Hmn." Harry said in an uncharacteristic voice. "Ron and I were just wondering when exactly you were going to come and sit with us?"  
  
The accusation in his voice caused my spirits to sink slightly. Of course, he was jealous that I was hogging his friend. Figured.  
  
I frowned slightly, knowing that Harry and Weasley usually stayed at school for Christmas.  
  
Hermione seemed to sense my unvoiced question and answered it for me.  
  
"Harry's going to go stay at Ron's for Christmas."  
  
"Was there a reason he needed to know that?" Harry asked testily.  
  
"Was there a reason he didn't?" she retorted.  
  
Harry scowled, obviously able to think of many. "Are you coming or not?"  
  
Her eyes flickered over to me.  
  
"It's ok." I spoke before she could protest. "Go. I'm ok here."  
  
_I'm ok by myself._  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Malfoy's a big boy Mione. I'm sure he can take care of himself." Harry glared at me.  
  
"Thanks for that vote of confidence Potter."  
  
"No problem."  
  
Hermione was still looking at me hesitantly and I forced a smile. "Go."  
  
Slightly reluctantly she left the compartment, Harry sending one last sneer (can you believe it??) at me before the door closed.  
  
Alone again.  
  
I was beginning to understand that that was something I would have to get used to.  
  
  
  
  
  
Thanks for reading!!!!  
  
Please please please review even if it's only to say you've read it.


	8. Chapter 8

I am so so so so sorry for not updating sooner but it really wasn't my fault!!!!  
  
My internet connection has been broken for the last two and a bit weeks and I have been unable to do anything.  
  
This is a fact which has been driving me mad but has thankfully now been rectified.  
  
So I can't wait any longer but thanks to everyone who reviewed – can't reply to you all separately but you're all cool beyond words.  
  
Onto the long-delayed next chapter!!!!!!  
  
**Harry POV**  
  
Why did such a beautiful exterior have to belong to such an obnoxious person?  
  
Why did such an obnoxious person not have to be obnoxious anymore?  
  
Those were the two questions that I furiously debated every moment of every day.  
  
He wasn't horrible anymore; that was a sad conclusion that I had to draw. In fact he was kind of . . . nice. Not to mention that he definitely had some vulnerable tendencies which is something I always find far too cute to bear.  
  
So to make up for it I took on his normal insufferable, despicable traits. I knew I was being an arsehole but I couldn't help it. And everytime I spoke to him I said such awful things that I hated myself. But I couldn't stop. It was my only defence mechanism against the feelings his gaze would raise within me. If only he was his old arsehole self; then I wouldn't have to be so mean.  
  
But it wasn't like I could just lean over and kiss him (unless I wanted my nose broken and the entire school knowing about it) and this was the only way I could stop myself from doing that.  
  
Now that I wasn't living in the same building as him it was easier than I would have thought to admit that. Not that I liked him or anything but that I was gay and wanted to...shag him . . . maybe . . . kinda . . . sort of.  
  
Now I just had to admit that to someone else other than me.  
  
And, out of a sense of duty (and also because I was sharing a room with him so it was kinda hard to tell anyone else) that person was going to be Ron.  
  
"Ron . . . " I took a deep breath preparing myself as much mentally as I was physically.  
  
"Hmph?" he sounded half asleep (unsurprising as we were trying to actually get to sleep).  
  
I congratulated myself for catching him at that stage – he usually reacted to things far better when he wasn't totally awake.  
  
"I'm gay." I steeled myself for an explosive reaction.  
  
A faint grunt of reply was all I received. A faint grunt followed by silence. I waited patiently for him to start shouting . . . or jumping up and down in shock . . . or reacting in the slightest way.  
  
I frowned. Perhaps I had mistimed by 'tell Ron when he's half asleep' plan and instead stumbled into a 'tell Ron when he's asleep' one. And whilst that was probably easier to cope with I didn't think that him being asleep quite qualified me for the coming out to my best friend scenario.  
  
Not to mention that I really wasn't finding this whole lack of response thing very interesting. There I was all prepared for the start of World War Three and all he does is go back to sleep.  
  
"Ron." I prompted expectantly.  
  
No response.  
  
"Ron!" I raised my voice slightly, beginning to feel more than a little irritated.  
  
He mumbled incoherently and rolled over.  
  
"Ron!!!" I leaned over and jabbed him in the ribs.  
  
"What???" he snapped, sitting up reluctantly, rubbing his eyes as I lit the lamp by the side of my bed, filling the room with a soft glow.  
  
"I'm gay." I repeated.  
  
He looked at me expectantly and when nothing else was forthcoming he frowned slightly. "Sorry Harry where are you going with this?"  
  
"I – I – I'm gay Ron!" I repeated.  
  
Was he really not getting this?  
  
"You know. . . I'm coming out to you." I attempted to further elaborate.  
  
Ron chuckled slightly. "You are kidding right?"  
  
Aha! Here came the denial and rejection . . . wait . . . was that a good thing?  
  
"No Ron I'm not kidding." Patience is the best way.  
  
"This is what you woke me up for?" he exclaimed, annoyance crossing his features.  
  
I crossed my arms. "Oh yeah, it's just my life – not very important at all is it? I'll have you know that this is a big deal – to me at least," I shot him a pointed look, "and I was hoping for your support but since you obviously couldn't care less . . . "  
  
He looked at me strangely. "No offence Harry but you hardly needed to 'come out' to me."  
  
I blinked. "Pardon?"  
  
"Well it's not as though I didn't know. You're hardly subtle about it. I mean what do you take me for Harry? Gilderoy Lockheart? I've known you were gay for months!"  
  
He knew? He knew I was gay?  
  
Ronald 'hit me over the head with a brick and I still might not notice' Weasley had noticed I was gay months ago?  
  
I must be gayer than I thought; camper than a boy scout in fact for Ron to really pick up on it.  
  
"So you don't mind?" I asked dumbly, unable to take this in.  
  
"Harry, we've already had this conversation once! I told you that I really didn't care as long as you don't fall for Draco Malfoy . . . or me," he added as an afterthought, "because let's face it – that would be awkward to say the least."  
  
I looked at him blankly. "When did you tell me this?" I asked in bewilderment.  
  
"In the library remember? When you embarrassed yourself totally by shouting at the top of your lungs that – "  
  
"Yeah I remember." I interrupted before he could remind me. "I just figured that you were kidding."  
  
At least . . . I had done afterwards. At the time I'd been horrified and embarrassed and overcome with the realisation that I actually **was** gay so much that I was willing to take whatever came out of Ron's mouth as gospel truth.  
  
(Obviously I was out of my mind but hey . . . coming out to yourself is harder than you think).  
  
"I was being perfectly serious actually." his face brightened. "Hey can I set you up with Seamus? It's just the other day, after your little outburst in the library, he was saying that he really hoped you were gay because he really wanted to shag you. I, of course, assured him that there was no conceivable way that you were in the slightest bit straight and that you would definitely consider going out with him."  
  
"Well thanks for sorting that out for me. Otherwise I wouldn't be able to decide whether or not I would consider going out with Seamus."  
  
"No problem Harry." Ron somehow managed to overlook the scathing sarcasm in my voice.  
  
"I don't know why," I mused, "but I sort of assumed that if you were going to try and set me up with anyone it would be Justin."  
  
Ron scrunched up his nose. "Yeah I would have done but you remember the Yule Ball right?"  
  
I snorted with laughter and the recollection. "Him and Zabini were so closely attached at the mouth I thought that they would have to be surgically removed from one another." I paused thoughtfully. "You know I always thought that Zabini was really into Malfoy but I guess he isn't if that night was anything to go by. Come to think of it," I added, "Malfoy wasn't even at the ball was he? I wonder why not . . . he always seems like the type of guy who'd be really into parties so he could show off his dancing skills. Not that he has any actual skills." I added hurriedly, not wanting to seem as though I was complimenting Malfoy.  
  
Ron made a non-committal noise in response.  
  
"Especially considering that he lives in a Manor. Aren't people who live in Manors supposed to be really good at dancing? Although he might be – because it's not as though I've actually watched him a lot at dances. In fact I don't actually watch him at all. Ever. The only thing he's got that's worth looking at is – "  
  
"Harry." Ron interrupted, sounding exhausted in a bored kind of way.  
  
I paused.  
  
"For fuck's sake I take it all back!"  
  
"Take what back?" I asked with a confused frown.  
  
"What I said in the library about you needing to go out with Seamus or Justin or anyone other than Malfoy."  
  
This being the last thing I ever – **ever** – expected to hear from Ron I blinked a few times before speaking. "I don't understand."  
  
Ron sent me an irritable look as though I was supposed to know exactly what he was talking about. "If going out with Malfoy will stop you talking about bloody Malfoy then I'm all for it! Bring it on! Anything to shut you up!"  
  
"I do not talk about Malfoy." I snapped irritably, feeling unusually offended.  
  
"You do! Every second of every day! It's ridiculous." He threw up his arms in exasperation. Obviously feeling he was still not making his point, he leaned forwards, moving in for the kill. "You talk about Malfoy as much as Hermione talks about Hogwarts: a history."  
  
Gosh. That was a lot.  
  
"I don't." I objected, completely unable to think of a single time that I had talked about Malfoy.  
  
"Oh yeah? Yesterday when I was talking about changing my hair you started debating whether or not Malfoy's hair colour was natural or not?" I attempted to defend myself. "It's one of life's biggest questions! I mean it's too blonde to be normal!"  
  
His eyes narrowed as he moved on to his next example. "This morning at breakfast when I told you to pass me the eggs you asked me why I thought they put the Gryffindor breakfast table in a position where we had full view of the Slytherin table and only the Slytherin table."  
  
"I never mentioned the world Malfoy." I said triumphantly, finding the key flaw in his argument.  
  
"True. Except then you went on to add that perhaps Malfoy had arranged it that way because it was the only way he'd catch any self respecting Gryffindor looking at him."  
  
"Well that's . . . true."  
  
"You were blushing when you said it."  
  
I gaped at him but, on a roll, he continued before I could reply.  
  
"In the garden yesterday when I commented that it was unusually sunny for this time of year you asked if I thought Malfoy ever went in the sun because how could he when his skin was so pretty and pale?"  
  
I bristled. "I did not say that!"  
  
"Oh yes you did." Ron exclaimed.  
  
"I would never use the word 'pretty'!"  
  
"Well you did." he snapped.  
  
I began to sulk.  
  
"When I told you that I really wanted to go back to Egypt at some point you launched into an anecdotal story about the time when Malfoy attempted to teach you about truth potions."  
  
"Well . . . " Were those two things even related?  
  
Ron smirked slightly. "Do you concede?"  
  
No! Think Harry think. There has to be some link between Egypt and truth potions. Pyramids . . . inspire truth? Truth potions can be made in Egypt?  
  
Oh this was ridiculous.  
  
"Perhaps." I admitted grudgingly.  
  
"So you'll ask him out?"  
  
"What??? No!!!" I was astounded.  
  
"Why not? I mean he's obviously into you. Just go for it already."  
  
"But Ron . . . " my face contorted in a grimace, "it's Malfoy!"  
  
Something on his face changed and he frowned, looking at me seriously. "Is that why you're being so awful to him?"  
  
"I'm not!"  
  
I was denying an awful lot today. Especially when half of it was true.  
  
"Harry. You are being far more cruel and snide to Malfoy now you fancy him than you ever were when you hated his guts. I mean . . . is this some kind of weird mating ritual that I don't know about? Or is it a relationship that relies on the love/hate dynamics to continue?" Ron was beginning to sound faintly amused.  
  
"There is no relationship!" I protested.  
  
"But I have a suspicion that that is more to do with the fact that you're too afraid to hit on him than the fact that you don't want a relationship with Malfoy."  
  
First he accuses me of being obsessed with Malfoy and now he doubts my courage! What is this? Pick on Harry day?  
  
"I am not afraid to hit on Malfoy! Did it ever occur to you that I just don't want to?"  
  
"No." he replied with bluntness only Ron could achieve.  
  
"Oh." I was slightly taken aback. "Why not?"  
  
"Because the sexual tension between you two gives me a headache."  
  
"Sexual tension?" I almost screeched.  
  
Oh. Bad idea to use the word 'sexual' whilst thinking about Malfoy.  
  
Ron groaned, rubbing his forehead with his fingers tiredly. "I'm beginning to understand how Hermione feels."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked suspiciously, sensing (correctly) that this was not complimentary to me.  
  
"That means that I'm beginning to understand what it's like to be surrounded by people who are too stubborn and dense to see what's right in front of them when I can see it very clearly! In fact – far too clearly for my liking."  
  
I shot a glare at him. "Ron."  
  
"Harry you're my best friend but your stupidity is getting really irritating."  
  
"Stupidity?" I repeated incredulously.  
  
Well . . . I suppose my parrot-like repetition of everything he says isn't really helping my case for lack of stupidity.  
  
"Yes, stupidity." he said firmly.  
  
I folded my arms obstinately, beginning to feel doubt and confusion churn in my stomach.  
  
I didn't know what to think anymore. Confused didn't even begin to cover what I was feeling.  
  
And Ron seemed to sense this. "Look," his tone was patient, "do you like him or not?"  
  
"Well . . . I'm not sure! I don't really know him. I mean, I think I like him; I've had enough dreams about – " I cut off at Ron's slightly nauseated expression. "I just don't know if I like him as a person."  
  
"Then why don't you find out?"  
  
And that was it.  
  
With those six words Ron showed me the most simple solution I'd been missing (or ignoring) the entire time.  
  
Get to know Malfoy. Without jumping him.  
  
How hard could that be?

* * *

"Come on boy-who-lived." Malfoy smiled at me cheerily from behind his Potions textbook. 'Time to study.'  
  
I raised my head slightly from the table where it had been residing. "Don't call me that." I scowled, honestly hating that god-awful nickname.  
  
I had fallen asleep during my Potions tutoring break and was feeling more than a little grumpy at my tutor waking me up.  
  
"Would you rather have been the boy-who died? Cuz I can call you that if you'd rather."  
  
This mischievous side of Malfoy was one I'd never really encountered and I can't say that I was fully prepared for it. Nor was I fully prepared for the way his eyes sparkled. He was so incredible.  
  
"Whatever Dra-Malfoy." I cringed realising I had yet again slipped up.  
  
"You know . . . I haven't changed my name Potter. If I ever was going to then 'Dra-Malfoy' would not be what I chose."  
  
The friendly smirk on his face melted all the barriers inside of me with ease (probably helped by my little chat with Ron) and I suddenly found myself smiling back at him.  
  
"Well for the time being I'm choosing it for you. Got a problem with that?" For once my tone was not confrontational but light-hearted with a touch of flirtatiousness.  
  
He shrugged slightly. "Well I suppose there are worst names to have." he paused thoughtfully. "I mean I **could** be called Harry Potter and then what would I do?'  
  
"Give yourself a scar and attempt to battle the dark lord?" I offered wryly. "Besides its not as though your name is that much better. 'Draco'," I rolled my eyes jokingly, "how moronic can you get?"  
  
I attempted to repress the shudder that threatened to wrack my body at the way his name rolled from my lips like honey.  
  
"I'm impressed Potter," he said seriously, "I didn't know you knew words like moronic."  
  
Frowning and grinning simultaneously I leaned over and hit him lightly, laughing at the exaggerated faces of pain he pulled.  
  
I was doing really well. Ron had told me that the first of all I had to make sure that Malfoy knew I wasn't trying to kick/scare the shit out of him any more.  
  
Sadly the second thing I had to do on Ron's list was compliment him.  
  
_Come on Harry – you can do this._ I cheered myself on inwardly.  
  
"You know you have really beautiful eyes." I blurted midway through Malfoy's lecture on the uses of frog spawn, minutes later when I'd finally decided what counted as a compliment.  
  
Hadn't Ron also said something about it seeming natural and not too 'I'm hitting on you in a really bad cheesy (not to mention obvious) way'.  
  
Well I guess I failed that part.  
  
"I – what?" he looked at me incredulously, faltering in his speech.  
  
"Uhh."  
  
Perhaps I should have thought through how to continue this compliment thing.  
  
"What did you say?"  
  
I coughed nervously. "Your eyes – they – they're really – nice...really...nice."  
  
Malfoy looked dumbstruck. "Oh."  
  
And **sounded **dumbstruck as well, interestingly.  
  
"I – uh – just thought I should tell you." I could tell that I was turning red and so persuaded myself to stop talking.  
  
"Right." he abruptly closed his mouth as though he had just realised it was open although his expression of bewilderment did not change.  
  
I watched him nervously, wondering how he was going to take this.  
  
_Probably carry on the uses of frogspawn lecture._  
  
"So, frogspawn can also be used as a – "  
  
My mouth fell open. I couldn't believe it. He was **actually** going to carry on the lecture after what I just said to him. Surely I was misreading what he was doing.  
  
Five uses of frogspawn later I deduced that I was **not **misreading anything and I actually did not have any effect on Malfoy whatsoever apart from making him think of frogspawn.  
  
On the sixth use he rubbed his temples tiredly and turned towards me. "Sorry you did just say I had really nice eyes didn't you? I mean I didn't imagine that or anything?"  
  
Oh why couldn't he let this drop?? There I was all resigned to learning about frogspawn and he brings it up again.  
  
"You didn't imagine it." I offered weakly.  
  
He nodded, deep in concentration as though this was some complex Potions problem. "That's what I thought. So why exactly did you tell me that?"  
  
"Uhmm."  
  
I wasn't sure whether it was Malfoy or his presence that was rendering me dumb; I was sure that whichever it was, it was extremely embarrassing.  
  
Although even if I had been able to speak I wasn't sure exactly what I would have said. I was too wimpy to bluntly tell him how I felt, and too dazed to lie my way out of it.  
  
"I mean is this all part of your extremely sudden 'try to be friends with Malfoy kick'?" he asked, leaning forward slightly.  
  
_Don't take the coward's way out.  
  
Don't take the coward's way out.  
_  
"Maybe."  
  
_That sounded suspiciously like the cowards way out.  
_  
"Yes." I corrected myself slowly, feeling fear creep up my spine at the thought of his reaction.  
  
_That **was** the coward's way out.  
_  
He nodded acceptingly and returned to his work for a few seconds before stopping, his voice again suspicious. "You know I've told any of my friends that they have really beautiful eyes."  
  
And neither had I now I came to think of it. Crap.  
  
_Serves you right for being such a wimp._  
  
"Well . . . maybe it's a Gryffindor thing."  
  
He looked at me, obviously unconvinced.  
  
"Maybe it's a Harry Potter thing?" I tried again.  
  
"Maybe." he echoed doubtfully.  
  
I felt a sudden burst of courage and moved towards him. "Or maybe it's that I'm trying to tell you that . . ." I trailed off.  
  
"That what?" he turned to look at me.  
  
Oh God.  
  
I realized with a jerk how close he was to me, leaning forward slightly until our lips were centimetres apart.  
  
I felt dizzy, intoxicated on his very presence.  
  
The world grew hazy and all I could think about was the aching need within me.  
  
"Potter." he whispered, his tone full of conflicting emotions.  
  
"Yes?" My breath caught and I fought to keep control of myself; fought not to pounce on him then and there.  
  
I could feel the heat coming off his body and I pressed closer still.  
  
"I really think you should get away from me." his voice cracked slightly.  
  
"Hmm?" I said dreamily, inhaling his scent and feeling myself become even more intoxicated.  
  
"Now." he demanded his voice low and harsh.  
  
And then the spell was broken.  
  
"Fuck." I stepped back immediately.  
  
Embarrassment flooded me – what had I been thinking???  
  
This was Malfoy!  
  
_That's kind of the reason you were doing this. Remember? You want to shag Malfoy. This is Malfoy. Hence the logical conclusion is you want to shag him._  
  
"I'm – I – I – " I stuttered. "I'm sorry – I – "  
  
"It's ok." Though his tone was comforting his face clearly showed that he had no idea whether or not it was ok.  
  
"I didn't mean to – " I gestured towards him vaguely, feeling a blush colour my cheeks.  
  
"I know." he nodded furiously, seeming relieved. "It was all a . . . misunderstanding."  
  
"A misunderstanding?" I questioned with a frown.  
  
What? What exactly did I misunderstand? His gender? His identity?  
  
There was something I really did not like about the word 'misunderstand'. It made me sound so . . . confused. Which, fair enough I was, but still . . .  
  
"I'm not sure I'd call it a misunderstanding." I said before I could stop myself.  
  
Oops. That was dumb.  
  
"What would you call it then?"  
  
"Oh – I –"  
  
Malfoy's scream of pain interrupted my stuttering and I turned to him in surprise.  
  
He fell to the ground, an expression of agony etched into his features.  
  
"What's wrong?" I asked, feeling panic run through me as I looked at his face. He was clutching his arm. "Nothing." he forced out between gritted teeth.  
  
"Malfoy what's the matter?" I repeated, worry clouding my voice; Malfoy took every opportunity to milk pain for all it was worth so if he wasn't doing then this had to be serious.  
  
"Potter I told you! Nothing's wrong now fuck off and leave me alone!"  
  
I ignored him and crouched down next to him. "Let me see." My voice was gentle and cajoling.  
  
"What?" his eyes widened and he scrambled back until he was pressed against the wall. "NO!"  
  
I rolled my eyes slightly. "Malfoy stop being such a baby. Let me see!"  
  
I grabbed the hand which he was covering his wrist with.  
  
"No." he exclaimed frantically one last time, his voice tinged with hysteria.  
  
I wrenched his hand off, pulling his sleeve up with it.  
  
And what I saw there made me freeze.  
  
The Dark Mark was tattooed to his arm.  
  
It was an angry black colour and throbbing, the skull leering at me sinisterly.  
  
I dropped his arm as though it had burned me, stepping away immediately.  
  
"Shit." I muttered in shock, my mind not able to function properly. My eyes were fixed on the boy slumped on the floor, unable to look at anything else.  
  
"Look I can explain." he began, his face drained of all colour.  
  
Shaking my head slightly, I backed away rapidly.  
  
"Potter wait!"  
  
As soon as there was a substantial distance between us I turned and walked away, breaking into a run.  
  
I had to tell Dumbledore. He had to know about this.  
  
Had to know that Malfoy was not what he appeared to be.  
  
I closed my eyes briefly as pain washed through me, the only thought running through my mind being that he'd lied to me.  
  
_Well of course he had – he **was** a Slytherin. And Draco Malfoy. And a Death Eater.  
_  
On the third floor, and too emotionally and physically exhausted to continue running, I dropped my pace to a walk.  
  
Instantly I regretted it as Malfoy's voice echoed through the corridor behind me.  
  
"Potter!"  
  
I stormed down the corridor, my strides as large as I could possibly make them.  
  
"Potter will you just bloody stop!"  
  
I could hear his footsteps getting closer and I attempted a burst of speed.  
  
"Harry!" he yelled at the top of his lungs in frustration, his voice containing a level of emotional desperation that I never imagined could have been possible.  
  
I stopped dead and turned round slowly, my eyes full of a cold fury.  
  
"Don't call me that. We're not friends Malfoy." My voice was trembling with anger. "We could never be friends." I laughed derisively. "God I'm such an idiot! I actually thought you could be a decent person! I defended you and trusted you and I actually – " I broke off, unable to continue.  
  
_I actually started to fall for you._  
  
His eyes softened slightly. "Look it's not what you think." he took a step forward.  
  
"No? So that's not a Dark Mark on your arm?"  
  
"Well yeah but – " he stopped, floundering for what to say.  
  
"But what?" My voice was harsh but inwardly I was dying.  
  
_Please.  
  
Please give me a reason to not turn you in.  
  
Please don't let me even have started feeling this way about a Death Eater._  
  
He swallowed, staring at the floor.  
  
To my horror I felt tears prick at my eyes.  
  
"Fuck you." I shook my head, turning before he could see the tears glittering in my eyes. "Fuck you Malfoy."  
  
"Harry wait – " despite the sentiment of his words, his voice had lost all hope; lost all will to fight.  
  
I walked away, knowing that Malfoy would not follow me; the resignation in his eyes told me that. Just as the resignation in my heart would require me to tell Dumbledore, his would require him to let me.  
  
With every step I took I could feel his burning gaze upon me and even despite what I'd just learned I could feel a shiver run down my spine.  
  
I really hated being the Boy-Who-Lived.

* * *

"Potter do you have a reason for barging in here like this unannounced?" Snape snarled at me, blocking my path to Dumbledore's path.  
  
"I wanted to talk to the headmaster."  
  
He didn't look inclined to move.  
  
"Urgently." I emphasised.  
  
"Well then I suggest you come back at a more convenient – "  
  
"Severus," Dumbledore interrupted smiling slightly in amusement. "Will you please let Mr Potter into my office?"  
  
A disgusted scowl on his face, Snape moved grudgingly out of the way, following me closely as I walked to Dumbledore's desk.  
  
"If you wouldn't mind Severus." Dumbledore indicated the door.  
  
Snape's lip curled menacingly. "Of course not."  
  
"It's about Malfoy." I started.  
  
Snape sat back down.  
  
"Severus." Dumbledore chastised gently.  
  
"Lucius is dead." Snape replied shortly. "I am the closest thing Draco has to a guardian and I have the right to stay and listen to this and defend my godson in his absence."  
  
Dumbledore sighed in resignation. "You are free to stay Severus." he turned back to me. "Please continue Harry."  
  
I swallowed. "Professor the thing is . . . " I hesitated, wondering why this felt so hard.  
  
Dumbledore watched me impassively waiting until I chose to continue.  
  
"Draco Malfoy . . . " I trailed off, recalling the pure terror in his eyes when I moved to look at his arm.  
  
"What about Mr Malfoy?" Dumbledore enquired pleasantly. Snape's eyes had narrowed and they contained a dangerous threat that I (as per usual) took little notice of.  
  
"He . . . he . . . " I shook my head irritably trying to clear away the feelings of guilt which lingered in my mind at the thought of turning him in. I didn't owe him anything. "He's a Death Eater." I blurted finally. "I saw the Mark on his arm."  
  
"Ah." Dumbledore sat back, looking serious. "I see."  
  
"I just thought you should know." I said awkwardly.  
  
Snape snorted. "Potter I always knew you were stupid. How can you really believe Professor Dumbledore doesn't already know?"  
  
"You know?" I stared aghast at him. "Why haven't you expelled him?? Why haven't you turned him in?? Why the hell is he here???" My voice had risen to hysterical heights.  
  
"Harry." Dumbledore leant back in his chair, his fingers idly tapping on the table in what I was beginning to find a very irritating way. "I think we need to talk."

  
  
Thanks for reading!!!  
  
Please review! You know the drill  
  
- Cherrycola69 -


	9. Chapter 9

* * *

Ok now sorry this is slightly shorter than other chapters and also more than slightly late but I'm currently on holiday with no internet access.  
  
Or at least the only internet access there is, is the type where you pay extortionate amounts of money for every fifteen minutes.  
  
So I only have time to post this and I can't reply to anyone's reviews. So all I have to say is : thankyou thankyou thankyou!!!!  
  
Enjoy the chapter  
  
**Harry POV**  
  
"He's a SPY?" I yelled. 'DRACO MALFOY IS A SPY?'  
  
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow and I lowered my voice, realising that this was probably not the best thing to be shouting at the top of my lungs. "I'm sorry sir," I continued in a slightly more reasonable volume, "but are you sure there isn't a mistake? Malfoy **can't** be a spy."  
  
Dumbledore leaned forward slightly. "And why is that?"  
  
_Because I am so bloody sick and tired of having to change my opinion of Malfoy every three seconds. First he's an arsehole with no decency. Second he's this poor tragic semi-orphan. Then I start to fall for him – deny it to myself and so hate him even more. Following that my idiotic best friend decided to tell me that I was lying to myself and having come to terms with the fact that I was gay I then began to come to terms with the fact that I had feelings for Malfoy. And the second that I finally accepted that – the very **moment** I realised that maybe I could attempt to be with him I found out he was a Death Eater and therefore the original arsehole I took him to be. And now. To top off this massive roller-coaster of emotions and opinions you go and tell me that he's a spy!!!!!  
_  
Of course I had no intention of telling either Dumbledore or Snape (especially not Snape) this so what I actually said was:  
  
"Because-because-he's Malfoy!" I spluttered. "He's probably double crossing you!"  
  
"Mr Potter, I trust Draco implicitly. He has my total faith in this matter."  
  
"But – but – " I was still trying to get my head around the latest turn of events.  
  
Snape was beginning to look amused. "What's the matter Potter? Cat got your tongue?"  
  
I sent him a dirty look before deciding to ignore him; turning back to Dumbledore. "I just don't understand how you can just suddenly accept that he's on our side. People don't just suddenly swap sides for no reason!"  
  
Silence met my exclamation and I relaxed for a moment feeling I had finally come up with an acceptable excuse.  
  
"That's true Mr Potter. Do you really believe that I would have welcomed Mr Malfoy into the Order of the Phoenix if I did not trust his reasons?"  
  
Damn. . . good point.  
  
I folded my arms. "Well?" I asked expectantly.  
  
Dumbledore blinked (possibly the largest effect I've ever had on him).  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"What are his reasons?" I explained (not so) patiently.  
  
Snape's eyes snapped to Dumbledore and he seemed immediately poised to interrupt.  
  
"Mr Malfoy's reasons are his own and his alone. I am not able to share them with you and nor would I choose to even if he had deemed it allowable."  
  
"Headmaster," I took a calming breath, "no offence but this is **my** life on the line here; my life that he could betray. I'd like to know."  
  
"I think you will find, Mr Potter that your life is not the only one at stake here. I am trusting Mr Malfoy with the lives of countless others."  
  
"Well they're not the ones who are going to have to fight bloody Voldemort are they Headmaster???" I snapped, the objects on the nearby table beginning to vibrate slightly with the magical energy I was emitting. "And I think that it's only fair for you to tell me why I should trust a Malfoy with my life." I folded my arms stubbornly. "I am not leaving here until you tell me!"

* * *

Well what do you know?  
  
He wouldn't tell me.  
  
Even with every threat I could muster he just sat there and repeatedly told me in that irritatingly calm voice that 'Mr Malfoy's reasons are personal' and 'it is not up to me to disclose them'.  
  
And even when I relented slightly and said that I would accept a hint he wasn't swayed at all!!! Just kept telling me those two sentences over and over and over and over again until I thought I would go insane!  
  
I stormed down the stairs from his office, imagining that each step I stamped on was Dumbledore's head.  
  
Honestly!  
  
The nerve of that man to just think that I would –  
  
"Omph!!!!" I tripped over something large, warm and solid that lay sprawled across the stairs and proceeded to loudly and painfully tumble down the remaining stairs (luckily there were only five – my bruises outnumbered the steps – then again that would be true even if there had been 41 steps left).  
  
I landed in an undignified heap at the bottom of the stairs, slightly dazed and more than a little confused.  
  
Right. Well that was unexpected.  
  
The sprawled large warm solid thing that went by the name of Draco Malfoy raised its head. "Potter?"  
  
Yeah. Figured it would be him. Just what I wanted to be confronted with.  
  
"Malfoy." I responded warily. "Why were you asleep on the stairs?"  
  
"Oh well I was waiting for you to finish talking to Dumbledore and whilst I was doing aforesaid waiting I fell asleep."  
  
_Aforesaid? Who says 'aforesaid'? Especially when they're in a state of terror? Or is it **because** they're in a state of terror?_  
  
"Are you going to hex me?" he said suddenly, nervousness plastered on his face.  
  
That would not have been my first question. Although I had been looking at him blankly for a while during the 'aforesaid' episode.  
  
"Sorry?" I asked confusedly.  
  
"Well you know that whole," he looked around quickly, "_Death Eater_ thing."  
  
Oh that. Wow for a split second the 'aforesaid' thing had wiped that from my brain.  
  
I almost wish that I could debate the word 'aforesaid' continuously – it would make my existence far more peaceful.  
  
"No Malfoy, today at least I am not going to hex you."  
  
_Now Dumbledore however . . ._  
  
"Right. OK then." he cleared his throat in what seemed like embarrassment. "Well now we have that sorted . . . what exactly did he tell you?" he asked in a carefully controlled terrified kind of way.  
  
Was it my imagination or was Malfoy slightly green?  
  
"Just that for . . . personal reasons," I tried to restrain the bitterness that those two words raised within me, "you'd 'seen the light' so to speak and had changed sides."  
  
"And that's it?" he looked relieved and yet disbelieving. "He wouldn't tell you what those reasons were?"  
  
I remembered my struggle with murderous fondness, deliberating on how to answer. "No."  
  
It was the safest answer.  
  
"Oh. Ok."  
  
'Thank God' were the words he failed to utter and yet were the only words that I really registered from him.  
  
Well Dumbledore had said that Malfoy's reasons were not his to tell...they were Malfoy's.  
  
"Say . . . Malfoy . . . " I began.  
  
"Potter," he interrupted, seeming far more exhausted than I'd originally realised. "Can we just talk about this in the morning? I know you have thousands of questions you want to ask me and thousands of accusations to toss around but I really can't cope with this right now."  
  
My mouth opened to snap back but I softened slightly, looking at the dark bags beneath his bloodshot eyes. "Ok." I answered quietly. "But you can't avoid me."  
  
He rolled his eyes slightly. "I'm fully aware of that. You'd track me down no matter how hard I tried. And trust me. . . I'd try pretty hard."  
  
"You have no chance of escape." I agreed.  
  
"That's what I figured." he attempted a smile but failed miserably.  
  
Not quite sure what to say we looked at each other for a few minutes, the mood soon becoming awkward and embarrassed.  
  
"Look . . . about what happened in the library." I stopped, realising that I had no idea where I was going with this one.  
  
Was I going to apologise? Repeat the experience?  
  
"The library?" he frowned.  
  
"You know when I – "  
  
His eyes widened with understanding. "Oh. That."  
  
"Yeah. That." I answered uncomfortably.  
  
"What about it?"  
  
The air had become thick with tension and I shifted awkwardly. Talking to him about his reasons for changing sides was one thing but talking to him about why I almost kissed him was something completely different.'  
  
"Uhmm."  
  
He raised a questioning eyebrow.  
  
"Well . . . " I started again, beginning to feel sick.  
  
"Yes?" he prompted.  
  
"Maybe we should talk about that in the morning as well." I said hastily.  
  
_Well done that was a superb display of spinelessness. I am surprised that you are not in a heap on the floor as you obviously no longer possess a spine._  
  
Too tired to argue, Malfoy turned away with a yawn. I watched every step he took, my mind such a confusing whirl that I didn't know where to begin with unpicking my thoughts.

* * *

**DRACO POV**  
  
_"Do you know what really hurt Dray? That you stopped loving me. I would have loved you no matter what- would have done anything for you. And you stopped loving me for trying to save you." Harry's eyes bored into me accusingly and I felt guilt slide through my body.  
  
"I didn't. I never stopped loving you." I answered sincerely.  
  
His eyes darkened, something dangerous flashing through them. "It didn't look that way to me when you killed me."  
  
"I'm sorry." I whispered, feeling grief tear at my heart as the memory flashed through my head.  
  
"Yeah- you're always sorry. But it doesn't make any difference. I'm dead! And nothing you can say or do will change that. And it's all your fault."  
  
"I – I – " A tear ran down my face.  
  
"You killed me Dray! And you can put whatever spin on it that you want- you can act like the hero for saving all those people or you can act like the victim. But it's only an act. Because you murdered me. You murdered the guy you loved. What kind of person does that make you?"  
  
"It wasn't like that.' I protested weakly. "I only – "  
  
He snorted derisively. "Save it." he put his hand on his heart. "It was all  
  
because of this right? All because you suddenly decided to have a fucking heart."  
  
Tears fell softly to the floor, as I stared at the features that were painfully familiar to me and yet at the same time painfully different to the Harry I'd recently known. .  
  
He stepped towards me and I shuddered at the feel of his presence; wanting so badly to touch him but knowing that his hatred of me forbade it. His tone, when he spoke, was low and angry. "This is what your love did for me."  
  
The hand he removed from his heart was red; stained with the blood that seeped from the wound that he uncovered.  
  
"No." I whispered.  
  
He smirked sarcastically. "Too late."  
  
The blood spread slowly across his robes, turning them crimson. The material was soaked with his blood and I could smell its coppery scent from where I stood.  
  
He slowly leaned forward until his mouth was centimetres from my ear, his breath tickling my skin as he spoke. "We're all slaves to love Dray. And mine killed me."  
  
I choked on my sobs, unable to take any more of this torture.  
  
Although his voice was barely a whisper, it cut through me with frightening clarity. 'And it'll kill him too.'  
_  
I sat bolt upright, my breathing ragged.  
  
That settled it – I was never ever EVER going to sleep again.  
  
Fuck. I mean – fuck!  
  
How many of those dreams did I need to have?  
  
Ever since Christmas my sleep had been plagued with nightmares.  
  
Nightmares in which the guilt I carried around every day was set free to torment me as it saw fit.  
  
And it seemed to see that an awful lot of things were fit for me to suffer through.  
  
Sometimes I wished that I had died at Christmas the way I had expected myself to. I thought that with Voldemort being a Legilimencer he was sure to see all the secrets and lies which whirred within me. And those secrets and lies were ones which indeed would result in my death.  
  
And whilst my godfather had been teaching me for the past few years to block Voldemort's attacks into my mind (which I now could not help but be thankful for) I was not at all convinced that I had the ability to stop him seeing those things which I hid from him.  
  
And yet . . . I was still alive.  
  
I had felt Voldemort's power sliding around in the outsides of my mind and yet he had not killed me. Somehow the sick fear and panic racing through me had formed a barrier through which he could not reach. My desire to save Harry had at the same time saved me from the fate I had believed I was to meet.  
  
But Merlin, I'm not sure death would have been that much worse than receiving the Mark for the second time.  
  
Fear, guilt, anger, dread all teamed up within me and assaulted my senses.  
  
My skin had been coated with a thin sheen of sweat and my heart had pounded so heavily that I choked upon it in my throat. I hadn't been able to stop shaking. All the eyes of the Death Eaters surrounded me in a circle, glittering in the dark like black faceted gems of doom. I had been trapped. Helpless. And if Voldemort had seen my intensions; fully unable to defend myself.  
  
And when Voldemort scribed his seal upon my skin the smell of my charring flesh had almost been enough to make me vomit all over that monster's feet.  
  
Yet somehow I had held it together, forced back the fierce pain and smiled into the face of the man who now commanded me as his own.  
  
Merlin, even thinking back to it makes me feel ill. I hate him. Hate myself. Hate the world for it being so that I have to do this. I'm too young to have to sacrifice my life. Too young to be a spy. Dumbledore and Snape both believe that as well although it is something which they no longer mention in my presence. They don't need to mention it. It's a belief that I can see shining in their eyes everytime they look at me. I am too young to do this.  
  
But I was not too young to fall in love.  
  
I was not too young to change time.  
  
I was not too young to sacrifice the only thing that mattered to me because it was the right thing to do.  
  
So somehow I will get through this...although...I may never sleep again.  
  
"Malfoy?"  
  
I didn't have the energy to raise my head from the breakfast table on which it was lying. "What?" my voice was muffled by the table.  
  
"Can I talk to you?"  
  
Oh shit. Harry.  
  
My head shot of the table. "Now?"  
  
"It's the morning." he assented. "You said we could talk in the morning."  
  
I felt the gazes of several Slytherins on me and my eyes flickered over them; realising that I should probably not be debating this with Harry in front of them.  
  
"In the morning ey?" Blaise's voice was in my ear suddenly. "You must have changed more than I thought Draco. You don't normally kick people out of your bed before at least talking to them."  
  
A flush blossoming on my cheeks I hit him in the shoulder sharply.  
  
"Hit a nerve did I?" he smirked at me.  
  
I glared at him, realising that the rumours that that comment would have started had better end there. "About Potions . . . right Harry?" I clarified.  
  
Blaise's eyes sparkled delightedly.  
  
Shit.  
  
"Potter?" I corrected myself hurriedly.  
  
"Right." Harry agreed.  
  
Blaise didn't look convinced and I groaned inwardly realising that this was the beginning of the end in regards to any peace I may have had.  
  
"So will you come and talk to me?" Harry prompted.  
  
Blaise snickered. "I'm sure that Draco will **come** and talk to you anytime and anywhere you like."  
  
There were times when I hated being in the Slytherin house. No Hufflepuff would ever betray their friends like this.  
  
Then again no Hufflepuff would suspect me of having a passionate affair with Harry Potter so I guess that that was irrelevant.  
  
"Sure." I replied to the blushing Harry, ignoring Blaise.  
  
Reluctantly (as I was still half asleep) I got to my feet and followed Harry out of the Great Hall, ignoring the cheers and catcalls of Blaise behind me.  
  
Harry dragged me down flights and flights of stairs until we reached an extremely abandoned classroom.  
  
"So . . . ?" he prompted expectantly.  
  
"So what?" I queried wearily, feeling worse than the previous night if that was actually possible.  
  
"Personal reasons. Yours. What are they?" he clarified.  
  
Oh God.  
  
I squinted blearily at the clock on the wall of the classroom. "What time is it?"  
  
I was sure he hadn't meant that he wanted to talk when it was too early for me to even be awake let alone functioning. Especially when I hadn't had any coffee yet.  
  
"Half eight. Now aren't you going to tell me why – "  
  
"No." I said firmly.  
  
He stopped; stunned. "What?"  
  
"I said no I am not going to tell you."  
  
"Why not?" he seemed outraged.  
  
"Because I don't want to. It's personal and I really don't want to tell you."  
  
Especially after Blaise's little embarrassing outburst.  
  
"But – but – but you promised!"  
  
"Yeah well I'm a Slytherin what do you expect?" I replied flippantly.  
  
In his fury he began to turn a vibrant red. "Look Malfoy – I trusted you – I trusted you enough to – "  
  
"Run off and tell Dumbledore I was a Death Eater before letting me explain?" I offered.  
  
If possible he turned even redder. "I trusted that you would tell me like you promised you would."  
  
"And do you want to talk about what happened in the library?" I asked coolly, knowing that the rational calm approach was the only one that would save me.  
  
Terrified horror flickered over his face. "No!"  
  
I smiled. "I'll tell you if you tell me."  
  
For a second his internal battle played on his features until, finally defeated by his disgust at what had almost happened he bowed his head resignedly.  
  
"Maybe some other time." he muttered.

* * *

"Are you alright?" Harry asked softly.  
  
"I'm fine." I replied shortly, lowering my head to my book.  
  
In fact I'd quite possibly never been less fine. I hadn't had a proper nights sleep in weeks and guilt was eating me up from the inside.  
  
For a few minutes there was silence and then he spoke.  
  
"Why?" he asked softly. "What happened to you that's tearing you up so much?"  
  
"It's none of your damn business." I muttered, ignoring the voice that told me that 'yes it was his business because it did involve not only him but his alternate reality self; a self which is now appearing in my dream prophesising the original self's death'.  
  
Fuck this was confusing.  
  
"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" he offered sympathetically.  
  
"We're not friends Potter." I snapped. "Just because we're on the same side now doesn't I'm your friend."  
  
He stared at me for a long moment levelly. "Fine. Be that way then." his voice was angry and he shoved his chair back with a violent bang, standing up and striding away before I even had time (in my dazed mind) to work out what was going on.  
  
'That wasn't very nice.' Hermione told me disapprovingly from behind me.  
  
I shrugged. 'I'm a Malfoy. Since when have I been nice?'  
  
She raised her eyebrows. "I'm not going to fall for that anymore. Why did you really say that?"  
  
"It's true. I'm not his friend."  
  
"Draco."  
  
I sighed. "I'm not exactly going to tell him the truth am I? And it's not fair to lie to him about this all important reason that made me change sides."  
  
"Well . . . it's your choice. But if there's one thing I know about Harry it's that he's not going to give up until he finds out."  
  
"Well he's not going to find out from me." I said firmly.  
  
She raised her eyebrows sceptically. "Like I said. . . your choice." She turned to walk away. "Oh and Draco – you better watch these outbursts. If I'd been the daughter of a Death Eater where would you be now?"  
  
Damn I hated it when she was right. She was right in so many ways.  
  
When had life got to be so complicated??  
  
**HARRY POV**  
  
I paused in my rant to Hermione about Malfoy's unreasonable behaviour for enough time as to let her speak.  
  
"Well it must be hard for him that's all."  
  
Was Hermione sticking up for Malfoy??? When he was clearly in the wrong and for once I wasn't???  
  
"I mean I'm not sure I could do what he's doing considering all that's happened."  
  
My ears pricked up. "All that's happened?"  
  
She closed her mouth in horror and a flush came over her face. "You know with- with his father's death and all." she said hastily.  
  
Hermione had hesitated. Hermione never hesitated.  
  
"What aren't you telling me?" I asked suspiciously.  
  
"Nothing!"  
  
I narrowed my eyes. "Hermione I know you better than that."  
  
The girl was terrible at lying.  
  
"I promised Professor Dumbledore that I wouldn't tell a soul."  
  
"So . . . ?"  
  
"So unless you've had an encounter with a Dementor that I didn't know about then you don't qualify."  
  
Damn. Where were those Dementors when you needed them?  
  
"Fine." I said reluctantly. "I'll leave it – but I will find out."  
  
Make no mistake about that.

* * *

Lying in bed that night I had managed to come up with at least a thousand ideas as to why Malfoy would swap sides; each one as unlikely as the last.  
  
I needed to know why before I was driven mad with the possibilities.  
  
I didn't even think I could wait until the next day. If Malfoy wanted me to tell him about what had happened in the library then that was a price I was willing to pay.  
  
I **had** to find out **now**.  
  
**DRACO POV  
**  
_"I love you Dray."  
  
"I love you. More than anything. " I whispered in return reaching out to caress his face.  
  
And yet when my hand moved it contained a wand which pointed straight at his chest.  
  
"No." I whispered in horror. Green light streamed from my wand.  
  
Harry's body crumpled and began to fall to the ground.  
  
'No!' I shouted hysterically.  
  
_**HARRY P0V**  
  
Sadly I had failed to consider the fact that Malfoy's room had a password.  
  
After standing outside it stating random words for about twenty minutes I  
  
had been about to leave when I bumped into Zabini.  
  
Now . . . I don't really understand why but Zabini seems to think that me and Malfoy are . . . intimate with one another.  
  
And in my desperation to get into Malfoy's pants – dammit I mean room!!!!!!!! I may have . . . not exactly dissuaded him from that belief.  
  
Zabini was only too willing to tell me the password to get into his room.  
  
What I had to say to get him to tell me is something I will take with me to my grave.  
  
So here I was . . . in Malfoy's room.  
  
Now I just had to find Malfoy.  
  
Now let me think where would Malfoy be? Where would everyone in the entire castle but me and Zabini be?  
  
I moved over to Malfoy's bed and cautiously peered inside.  
  
Malfoy was thrashing around and crying out frequently. He was covered with sweat and there was an expression of pure fear on his features.  
  
"Malfoy." I leaned forward and gently touched his shoulder. "Malfoy wake up!"  
  
The second our skin touched he shot upright, his fists clutching the sheets.  
  
His eyes flashed to me and the fear in them faded slightly, replaced with a frantic hope.  
  
"You're alive." he wrapped his arms around me squeezing until I literally had no air left in my body. "Thank God. It was just a dream. And you're here. You're here."  
  
_Yes. I'm here and you're . . . attached to me. Very literally._  
  
It was hard to concentrate with Malfoy's body pressed up against mine like that.  
  
"I thought I'd lost you." he let out a sob. "I thought that I'd never see you again. Shit. I thought – I thought that – " his voice gave out and he buried his face in my shoulder. "You're alive. You're alive."  
  
And then his lips were on mine.  
  
My mind stopped functioning.  
  
Holy. Fuck.  
  
Malfoy was kissing me.  
  
**Malfoy** was kissing me.  
  
**Malfoy** was _kissing_ me.  
  
Too stunned to quite accept this fact I stayed deadly still, unsure of what to do.  
  
His lips massaged mine desperately and I felt lust spiral through my body.  
  
"Malfoy." It came out part moan part plea to stop. I knew that this was wrong that he was still half asleep but I wanted it – I wanted it so damn much!  
  
He froze. "Potter?" he asked warily.  
  
"Yes?" I replied weakly.  
  
"Fuck!" he leapt away from me as though I had burned him. "Fuck! Fuck!  
  
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!!"  
  
Take it as though that means it wasn't me he thought he was kissing.  
  
"What the hell are you doing in my room?" he exclaimed.  
  
Slightly affronted (and knowing that this would take us down a path I really didn't want to go down) I took the offensive. "What the hell are you doing kissing me?"  
  
Instantly his face did an interesting combination of paling and blushing.  
  
"I didn't know it was you!" he exclaimed, "how was I supposed to know that you were in my bed! I thought that – "  
  
"What?" I asked curiously.  
  
He sighed and buried his head in his hands. "I thought that you were someone else." he said finally after a pained pause.  
  
Sensing this was a sensitive subject I shifted closer to him supportively.  
  
"Who?" I asked softly.  
  
He licked his lips nervously and I was suddenly reminded of the kiss we had shared.  
  
"You really want to know?"  
  
"Yes." I said firmly. "I want to know everything."  
  
He sighed and closed his eyes resignedly. "Alright."

* * *

"Wow." Hermione said finally.  
  
"Wow? That's all you've got to say?" I exclaimed, having just related the entire story to her.  
  
"I just can't believe he told you."  
  
"Well believe it." I sighed. "Personally I can't believe he kissed me!"  
  
"So you're ok?" she asked delicately.  
  
"Well I'm not exactly traumatised. Considering he was half asleep Malfoy is one hell of a good kisser!"  
  
"I meant about what he told you." she ground out.  
  
I looked at her strangely. "Of course I'm ok. Malfoy messed round with time a bit. So what?"  
  
She exhaled slowly in wonderment. "I'm not sure I could be quite so calm as you if I knew that I'd been going out with Malfoy in another existence."  
  
What?  
  
Had I heard that wrong?'  
  
"Sorry?" I asked faintly.  
  
"I said I couldn't be so calm if I'd been going out with Malfoy in another existence let alone being in love with him. Plus that whole him killing you thing well that's got to . . . "  
  
I stared at her in numb horror.  
  
She froze. "Oh shit."  
  
My mouth was slightly open.  
  
"He didn't tell you that?" she asked weakly, as though she was afraid of the answer.  
  
I shook my head silently, unsure I could even form words.  
  
"Oops." she said faintly

  
  
Please review and I'll update as soon as I can!!!  
  
Cherrycola69


	10. Chapter 10

I know I was evil leaving a cliffhanger and then not updating for ages but hey. Where's the fun in not leaving you in anticipation??? Plus I've been on holiday again to a place that didn't even **have** an internet connection. Thankyou everybody for reviewing. Do not have time to reply to everybody but I'm just going to thank one person

potterluva - Wow 9 reviews or was it 10?? I'm stunned. Glad you like it so much. Keep reviewing!!

**DRACO POV**

After Potter had left I'd been unable to carry on sleeping.

I'd kissed him. I'd fucking kissed him.

I mean . . . ok I'd been half asleep at the time, had just had a nightmare, wasn't really expecting him to be in the room and had thought that he was the other Harry but still . . .

After aimlessly wandering up and down my room for about half an hour I'd decided that being alone was probably not a good option at that present time.

Cue the Slytherin common room.

No-one in my house went to sleep until about 4am anyway and for once I was glad of that.

There I could muse how I'd managed to get away with . . . well . . . not lying to Potter just . . . not really telling him the whole truth, without it immediately coming back to bite me in the ass.

Sadly, just as I'd managed to convince myself that it was me finally getting a bit of luck for once in my life and therefore I could go back to sleep, Blaise cornered me.

He then proceeded to chatter at me inanely. Now normally Blaise's inane chatter is quite entertaining. Sadly I was so close to falling asleep that it was more irritating than anything else.

"Blaise," I took a deep, calming breath in, "was there something you actually wanted to ask me or are you just keeping me awake for the pure amusement of it?"

The second one was one that sounded likely – it was something I did regularly.

He blinked. "Oh right." he sounded slightly disappointed that I'd interrupted his flow of chatter.

Assuming the matter over I stood to leave.

"There was something I actually wanted to ask you."

I shot a death glare at him, reluctantly sinking back down. "Go on." I said as politely as I could possibly manage after the evening I'd had . . . aka not very politely.

He glanced around surreptitiously before leaning over to my ear and whispering conspiratorially. "How is he?"

He drew back and watched my face eagerly for my reaction.

I frowned. "Who?"

"You know . . ." he gestured madly with his eyes, "Potter."

I shrugged, perplexity on my features. "I'm sure he's fine. Why?"

Blaise sighed. "That wasn't quite what I meant Draco."

"What did you mean then?"

"Well . . ." he smirked, "_you know_ . . . "

I looked at him blankly.

"You know!"

"Blaise – as we have already established I do _not_ know. Now I'm tired so I would really appreciate it if you would just tell me exactly what it is you want to know!"

"I want you tell me what Potter's like in bed." He said frankly.

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Is he any good?" Blaise's eyes took on a sparkle. "I bet he is. I mean all those years of rivalry had to fuel a lot of sexual frustration right?"

I looked at him, stunned momentarily into silence. "Are you telling me that you kept me awake to ask me whether HARRY POTTER WAS A GOOD SHAG???"

Too late I realised that yes, I had just shouted that to the entire Slytherin common room.

Blaise snorted. "I had no idea that you were so vocal when it came to him."

The glare he received could have melted glass.

"Are you going to tell me or not?" Blaise pressed.

"Well . . . " I began before trailing off uncertainly.

This left me in a bit of a dilemma.

If I didn't tell him then he was going to assume that I was in love with him.

The only other option was that I'd got a sense of decency when it came to talking about my conquests.

That of course was unlikely. So he'd probably go with the first one.

Blaise raised his eyebrows.

"He's . . . "

But I couldn't just make up lies about what Potter was like in bed – however flattering the lies may be.

Plus any lie I could make up would be based on my rather intimate knowledge of other Harry's sex life.

Blaise however took my silence not to be that of internal debate but one of something far more . . . Slytherin.

"That good huh?"

"Beyond words." I added wryly.

"Wow." Blaise seemed lost in a world of his own.

_Ew. _

_**That is so wrong.**_

"Can I go to bed now?" I asked wearily.

"Sure."

I turned to leave.

"Just one more thing." Blaise called after me.

Damn so close. 

I stopped. "What?"

A faint blush (something I had never seen Blaise wear) coloured the top of his cheeks. "I don't suppose that you and Potter might ever want some company?"

"Company?" It clicked. My eyes widened. "Blaise!!"

"Please?" he looked at me hopefully.

"NO!"

"But – "

"But nothing! Mine and Harry's relationship is exactly that. **Mine** and **Harry's**."

Now was the time for lying . . . unless Harry particularly wanted a horny Blaise propositioning him everytime they met.

_Who knew? He might. _

**_For the sake of my ever-suffering sanity . . . let's not even contemplate that._**

Blaise drooped.

"Now if you'll excuse me," I said venomously, "I'm going to bed."

This time I made it halfway across the common room.

"Draco!"

"WHAT???" I turned furiously.

"If it's yours **and** Harry's relationship then maybe you could ask him if he's interested."

"How about 'no'?"

"Well would you mind if _I _asked him."

"Strangely enough yes I would."

"Draco that's not fair." He whined in an extremely high pitch, "You can't get the hottest guy in the school then refuse to share him!"

"Blaise," I explained patiently, "you have a boyfriend. Justin. Remember him?"

"Justin Shmustin. No-one would turn up the chance of you **and** Potter together. And I mean literally no-one."

_That's creepy. Not surprising. . . but creepy._

"Goodnight Blaise."

"Uhh Draco?"

"Blaise if this is another pointless irritating question then I swear to – "

"Have you done something to upset the Boy-Who-Lived recently to the point where he'd want to kill you?"

"Blaise, Harry won't sleep with you even if he hated the ground I walk on."

When was he going to give this one up???

"That's not why I was asking." he said profoundly in one of those smug voices he used when he knew something I didn't.

"What are you talking about Blaise?" I snapped irritably, hoping that it wasn't yet another thing that was going to stop me from going to bed.

Blaise jerked his own head towards the door. I turned to follow his gaze and saw an angry Harry Potter storming towards me.

_Is no place safe any longer?_

"Potter?" I noted in surprise. "What are you – "

My words were cut off as he hauled me to my feet and slammed me against the wall with a force that knocked all the air from my body.

"You arsehole! You fucking arsehole."

Wh – what?

His green eyes were practically black with anger and I could feel his magical power simmering in the air between us.

"How dare you fucking do that to me?"

Ok for once I really had no idea what was going on. I didn't know what I'd done to piss Potter off so much but –

"How dare you lie to me??" he snarled, "How dare you???"

Lie to him?

When did I – Oh.

It all suddenly became clear.

He knew.

His hands were clenched around my shoulders with bruising force.

"Potter – "

"Shut up!" he snapped. "Shut – up."

Each word was accentuated with a thud that came from my subsequent collisions with the wall.

I choked; the pain hitting my body with a force that I hadn't known Harry Potter had possessed. His fingernails were digging into my shoulders and had probably drawn blood by now.

The room was silent apart from his heavy, angry breaths.

Oh fuck what must this look like???

After my little explosion earlier probably like I'd cheated on him.

"Potter." I hissed.

Oh well may as well play up to the lover's tiff charade.

I leaned forward so our bodies were touching and whispered harshly in his ears. "Not here."

"Don't touch me." he shoved me away forcefully. "Don't you ever fucking touch me again do you understand??"

I felt a pang of pain in my heart.

It figured. He'd probably run out of limbs to tear to pieces and so now he's moved on to the inside of me.

I held back the waves of pain with an enormous effort. "Look Potter if you'll just come to my room with me then we could talk about this like reasonable adults."

Or at least he could just beat me up in private – much better than this public humiliation.

"If you think I'm going anywhere with you Malfoy you're very much mistaken." he snarled. "I will never trust you again do you understand me?"

My heart throbbed uncomfortably and I met his gaze.

The intensity in his eyes as well as the hatred in his tone scared me slightly. He meant this – it wasn't just anger which he'd get over. He never would trust me again.

I'd never even known he'd trusted me to begin with.

I caught a glimpse of the sea of Slytherin's faces that were staring at us dumbstruck.

Why did people always have to witness these moments?

I sent Blaise a meaningful look., darting my eyes to the other people.

"OK everybody out!" He shouted, ignoring the moans and whines that emitted from various Slytherin's mouths (luckily it was late at night – any earlier and he'd have been ignored).

I watched everyone leave, trying to pretend I couldn't feel Potter's eyes burning into me. Trying to pretend I hadn't destroyed everything I'd ever wanted. Trying to pretend that my world wasn't about to fall shattered around my feet.

Blaise had taken a seat on the sofa.

"I meant you too!" I snapped.

Rolling his eyes Blaise moved from the room.

Now there was just us. Me, Harry and the silence.

The silence that I knew was about to come to an abrupt ending.

"How could you do something like that?" his voice was slightly quieter now although it resonated in anger.

I wasn't sure if the question was rhetorical but I felt I better clarify. "Lie to you? Or change time?"

"Either. Both!"

"Well I lied to you because I wanted to avoid a situation pretty much like this one, and I changed time because –"

"Malfoy it was a rhetorical question!" Potter snapped.

Oh. Ok then.

"I just can't believe that – " he broke off, closing his eyes briefly, shaking his head in bewilderment.

There was an awkward silence in which I stared at him; at his defeated pose.

"Potter what exactly do you want me to say?" I asked softly.

This was a question to which I really did not know the answer. I didn't know what he was hoping to achieve by this confrontation.

"What do I want you to say?" he looked puzzled momentarily before his face darkened. "I want you to tell me that I imagined this entire thing. I want you to tell me that this was some bizarre dream I had." he snorted bitterly, "But I guess that isn't going to happen. So what I want – " his breath caught and he swallowed slowly before continuing, "I want you to tell me that you regret it. That if you could you'd take it all back in a heartbeat. I want you to tell me that whatever it was that you felt is gone. I want you to tell me that you never think about what it was like holding me in your arms every night. I want you to take it all back!"

I stared at him quietly, wanting to take away what it was that was hurting him but unable to do so. What was hurting him was me. And there really wasn't much _I_ could do about that.

"I can't do that." I whispered finally. "Even if I wanted to I couldn't."

"Do you want to?" he pressed.

"No." I replied simply.

_Wow. Once you're on a truth kick you really can't stop. _

"For once in your life can't you just be sorry! Can't you just pretend you feel the slightest bit of guilt?" his voice was rising again and I winced slightly.

Could I?

I felt guilty alright but not for the reasons he wanted me to do.

"Do you really want any more lies Harry?"

And then he flipped. Completely and utterly. Perhaps it was the use of his name, perhaps a nerve I'd touched but he completely flipped.

He picked up a coffee table and threw it at the wall. It shattered on impact and I flinched as a large piece of wood ricocheted off my chest.

"What the hell gave you the right to do that? What makes you so fucking special that you had the right to change the entire flow of time? What gave you the right? What??" he was almost purple by this time. "Answer me!!!"

Put under pressure, my own voice rose to an exasperated shout. "I didn't know what else to do alright? My father had just died – my world was falling apart. And I loved someone who would never love me in return."

"No!" he yelled. "You didn't love _someone_ you loved _**me**_."

"Is there a difference?" I asked tiredly.

"Yes! Yes there damn well is. If you'd even tried then I maybe could understand. You never even spoke to me – never gave me any indication of the way you felt. And I'm sorry but you cannot go around doing things like this just because you're too much of a damned coward to hit on me."

Although I tried quickly to destroy it for fear of getting hurt, a small thread of hope wound through my stomach. Maybe there was just a chance that he felt the same way. "And if I had done?"

There.

The words were out and I could not take them back no matter how much I probably was going to wish that I had.

"I'd have laughed in your face." Potter sneered. "You are everything I hate in this world. You're a selfish, lying hypocrite and right now I hate you so much that I could kill you where you stand."

He had my heart in his hand and I swore he was taking pleasure in vindictively squeezing it as hard as he could. "Geez Potter," my voice was thickened with sarcasm, "don't worry about hurting my feelings or anything. Just keep on going – tell it like it is."

"It's not my fault the truth hurts Malfoy. Don't blame me because you can't handle the harsh light of reality."

"You're one to talk!!" I snapped, unable to simply lie down and take the blows that were a little too accurate for me to ignore. "Don't you stand there telling me that I can't handle reality when you can't even accept what I did. You can't change what happened Potter. It's done and there's no more to it. I can't take it back anymore than you can stop the world rotating. Just because you can't cope with the truth doesn't mean I'm going to sit there and lie to you."

"But you're so good at it." he hissed, sounding on the verge of sliding into Parseltongue.

"For fuck's sake Potter grow up! So what? For once the almighty Harry Potter didn't know what was going on. For once there was something that was your hands. Well you know what? I am sorry. I'm sorry that you are such an anally retentive control freak."

"You want to exchange sorrys Malfoy?" Potter's eyes blazed.

"Feel free. It's not like you can say anything I've never heard before."

He snorted and stepped closer until our noses were mere centimetres apart. "I'm sorry that I ever met you. I'm sorry that were deluded enough to believe that we could be together in any reality. I'm sorry that I ever had to find out what a sad, twisted, freak you are. I'm sorry that even now you're imagining what it would be like to kiss me."

I jerked back slightly, feeling my cheeks flame scarlet; only too aware that there was more than a slight element of truth in what he'd just said.

His voice dropped to a low level and he shook his head regretfully. "I'm sorry that someone like you could never be with someone like me."

I tried to speak. Tried to even form words in my head but I couldn't.

Stunned by his anger, his venom, his hatred it was taking too much effort to keep standing to even begin to contemplate replying. I wanted to cry; the world was spinning and I knew the only way to make it stop was to dissolve into tears. But I couldn't cry. Not in front of him.

I sagged against the wall slightly, not trusting myself to remain standing as he began to speak again, his voice trembling with emotion. "So what if I don't love you? So what if I bloody never will? You cannot do things like that. That you would _do_ something like that shows that I could _never_ love you. Never! Do you understand me? **I will never love you**. I never have done and I never will. Do you understand?" There was silence as he glared at me – obviously waiting for me to answer that question.

"Yes." I ground out finally past the painful lump in my throat. "I understand."

And I did understand.

I understood that the only person I was living for hated me. That was something that was never going to change.

"I understand." I repeated softly.

"Good." he stepped away. "Now please. . . .just get away from me."

"Trust me Potter," I spat, "I wouldn't want to stay near you one more moment than necessary."

I turned on my heel and stalked from the room, biting the inside of my cheek to stop the tears from falling.

I wouldn't let anyone see me cry.

I didn't stop walking until I was safely ensconced in my bathroom (to get there people would have to go through at least three doors).

And then I promptly threw up.

* * *

**HARRY POV**

I started to cry: loud heavy sobs that left me choking for air.

I buried my face in my pillow, trying to muffle the sound I was making and I felt the pillow become increasingly more and more soaked with my tears.

Why did these things always happen to me?

Why was it that the second I worked out that I liked Malfoy I found out something like this?

It wasn't fair, it really wasn't.

I'd tortured myself for months on end, wondering what it would take to have Malfoy and wondering whether I even wanted to.

Only to find out that everything I wanted – everything I dreamed of at night – had already happened. I just didn't know it.

To find that what you wanted has already been and ended is a type of pain

I'd never experienced before. To find out that Malfoy had already loved me – both me and the other me. To find out that moments like our first kiss and our first time could never be that – they would be tainted with the memory that Malfoy had already kissed me – had already slept with me...had already killed me.

I suppose that I could've taken it as a good sign – that Malfoy **was** gay and **did** like me but really I was not in the mood to seek out the silver lining in the extremely large black raincloud that was my life.

And shit – to know that he had become a spy for me (for that was the only reason I could think of ) that was something I didn't want to think about.

I was the reason he had put himself in danger. I was the reason he'd be mentally and physically tortured, forced to do things he didn't want to do.

All because I'm Harry Potter. Yet another person was in danger because they had dared to love Harry Potter.

Perhaps I could have come to terms with that if there was a chance of us being together. But now I could never have him – not with the knowledge I now possessed.

Every time I kissed him I would wonder if he was remembering the kiss of the other me.

Every time he told me he loved me I wouldn't know whether he really loved me or just a distant memory of how I once was.

I wasn't lying when I told him I wanted it not to be real.

I **was** lying when I told him I never could love him.

In fact I was lying in most of the things I said.

I was just so angry that he lied to me. I was so hurt and destroyed by the implications of what he'd done that I lashed out. I suppose I wanted to make sure he was suffering as much as I was.

But then he must have been anyway – suffering all this time.

And I just made that worse.

I make everything worse.

Some great hero I am – I hurt everybody I care about.

God, I hadn't even stopped to listen to him. I was so busy throwing around accusations and insults that I hadn't taken on anything he had said.

I just – I just –

Shit! There was no reasoning really behind the way I'd behaved. When Hermione had told me I'd wanted to cry. It was the only way I could get rid of the shock and distress and frustration and regret. Well...not the only way.

The second way involved going and verbally beating the shit out of Malfoy.

Really wish I'd gone with the first one after all.

The look on his face – just the thought of it made the receding tears start all over again.

I was an arsehole. I was just such an arsehole!

I was an arsehole who had just lost the only chance he'd ever had at being with the person he was crazy about.

Breakfast the next day was bad. Horrific. Unbearable.

Hermione kept throwing nervous glances at me – able to tell far too well that I'd spent the entire night crying.

I was pretending not to notice her – concentrating really hard on looking down at my breakfast and not looking at Malfoy if it was the last thing I ever did.

I could feel him determinedly doing the same thing and knew instinctively that he was ignoring Hermione's apologetic looks and hesitant smiles.

In fact this is turning into a let's all blame Hermione breakfast.

Except for Ron. He was blissfully ignorant and chewing away at his breakfast.

I gave my bacon one last poke and then stood up.

I had to get out of this room.

I had to get out of Malfoy's presence.

I had to get out of the cloak of Hermione's knowing guilt.

Making some excuse about forgotten homework I shot out of the hall.

Now normally this would not be an excuse but actually a very real reason.

However the first lesson we had was Potions and Malfoy had made damn certain that I'd –

Malfoy.

I sighed.

I couldn't even escape him in my thoughts.

Head down, I began the trek to Potions – planning on being early for the first time in my life. I was quite looking forward to Snape's abuse. A) because I deserved it and B) because there was nothing he could say that would or could make me feel any worse.

"Potter."

Oh shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.

I turned slowly, watching Malfoy walk quickly after me.

His eyes flickered up to my own and I saw him taking note of their redness and puffiness – of the deep black bags that lay beneath them.

"Malfoy." I said in a not too friendly way.

"We need to talk."

"Talk?" I snorted, "whatever Malfoy. You know that's not why you're here."

A look of uncertainty and confusion flickered over my face.

"I wanted to talk to you." he repeated with a frown.

"No. What you _wanted_ was something you can never have."

It clicked and his eyes flashed. "Don't flatter yourself Potter."

"Oh I don't need to – you seem determined to do that." I snarled.

What was the matter with me?

"Does it hurt Malfoy?" I stepped closer. "Does it hurt that you have to see me everyday. That you have to sit and watch me – knowing that you'll never have me. Never kiss me. Never touch me. Knowing that I would never come near you out of choice?"

For fuck's sake stop! Stop talking!!! 

"You seem awfully close to me for someone who'd never come near me out of choice Potter."

I couldn't stop. I didn't know where the words were coming from but I couldn't stop them.

"But that's what you want isn't it Malfoy? Isn't that what you've wanted all this time?" I stepped even closer. "Isn't it?"

Why couldn't I stop???

Panic flittered through his eyes and he attempted to speak.

"Come on Malfoy," I ground out, "here I am. The real me. You don't have to change time. I'm right here. What is it that you want?"

Shut up! Please please please stop talking! 

He swallowed, closing his eyes momentarily as he fought whatever demons inside him that were stopping him from telling me the truth. "You know what I want Potter."

"Yes I do." I stepped back. "And isn't it a shame that I'd rather join Voldermort himself then ever be with you."

He looked as though I'd just pulled his heart from his chest.

Wounded. Broken.

I hated myself.

I smiled at him – a sinister smile. And even as the words formed in my mouth I wanted to take them back. But they came anyway in a low harsh, ridiculing whisper. "Whoever would have known that the almighty Draco Malfoy was a fag??"

The next thing I knew I was slumped on the floor, pain shooting down my face and able to see stars.

He . . . he hit me.

_**Well thank God someone found a way to shut you up. **_

I gazed at the murderous flicked in his eyes, my mouth parted slightly in astonishment.

I lifted my fingers to my face and gingerly touched my nose. My fingers were covered in blood.

He _really_ hit me.

He extended his hand to me and still stunned I took it, allowing him to pull me to my feet.

"Come on Potter." he murmured wearily, guiding me down the corridor to Madame Pomfrey's room.

His hand was behind my shoulder and I could feel it burning into my skin.

The peculiar feeling of the pain and his touch combined made me shiver.

Geez who was _I_ to call _him_ a fag?

Malfoy lifted his hand and knocked on the door sharply. It swung open revealing an exasperated Madame Pomfrey.

"Mr Potter! Surely you haven't been fighting again? Although I must say I've never seen Mr Malfoy actually accompanying you after injuring you." she looked at us suspiciously, able to sense that the silence was not the usual angry, stubborn one between us.

Instead it was one of despair; one of true emotional pain.

The pressure on my shoulder disappeared and I turned. Malfoy was gone.

Guilt washed over me. Could I really blame him for leaving me?

"Come on Mr Potter." Madame Pomfrey opened the door for me.

I entered hesitantly – my eyes still seeking out – but unable to ultimately find the boy that had turned my world upside down.

* * *

**DRACO POV**

He'd deserved it. He really had deserved it and that was the reason he hadn't retaliated. He knew as well as I did that what he'd said deserved far more than what I'd done to him.

But shit . . . how had this all happened.

How had the circumstances become so that I almost knocked out the one person I was trying to protect??

Well the fact that he was being a jack ass was probably part of it but I really couldn't believe that what had transpired had actually transpired.

Sprawled across the floor he had looked like he was about to cry. Not from the punch – Merlin knows I've hit Potter harder than that before – but from what he'd done; what he'd said.

So I'd helped him up, taken him to Madame Pomfrey's. I couldn't leave him there sitting on the floor; blood dribbling down his face and shaking in tears.

Yes I was hurting . . . but he was too.

We were as messed up and confused as each other; neither of us really having any idea what the other truly thought or what was going to happen in the future.

Him knowing I'd changed time was going to have repercussions far beyond what I could ever imagine.

And the way things stood, that was probably not a good thing.

This had to be fixed.

Or at least we had to **try** to sort it – I wasn't sure that this could ever now be fixed. That all depended on him.

I picked up a quill and sat at my desk, taking a deep breath; knowing how difficult this would be.

Then I lifted the quill to a piece of parchment and began.

_Dear Harry, _

* * *

Please please review

Cherrycola69


	11. Chapter 11

OK sorry it's been such a long time but I've been really busy and have also had terrible writer's block. 

Hence this chapter is possibly the worse one I've written (there had to be one) and also possibly the shortest.

But try to enjoy anyway!

* * *

**HARRY POV**

"I can't believe you said something like that!" Hermione shouted.

"I know." I groaned.

"You know its really a shame that we didn't know this weakness of Malfoy's before you started having feelings for him," Ron remarked, "Imagine all the fun we could have had messing with his head."

Hermione and I just looked at him.

"Ok," he said defensively. "I was just pointing it out."

Hermione and I ignored him.

"Fuck!" Hermione exclaimed, shaking her head in exasperation. "The only good thing about this is that at least now I don't look so bad."

"Mione." I snapped.

"What? Look I messed up big time telling you what happened. At least now he might hate you slightly more than he hates me."

About to retort angrily I saw the look of sadness on her face. "I'm sure he doesn't hate you." I assured gently. "He doesn't seem like the sort of person to hold grudges."

She shot me a look.

"Ok he seems like exactly the sort of person to hold grudges," I amended, "but, I'm sure he won't because he needs every last friend he can get right now and what you did really was an honest mistake."

"Do you think so?"

"Yes." I scowled. "Unlike me – who he will hate every moment until Voldemort kills me in a blanket of green light."

Her face softened. "Harry don't say things like that."

"What? That he hates me or that Voldemort will kill me?"

"Either. Both."

"I'm just telling it the way I see it." I shrugged.

"HEADS UP!!" someone shouted as an owl shot into the room, shedding feathers as it flew.

It circled around at dizzying speed before dive bombing towards me and screeching to halt in front of me.

It held a letter in its talons.

My name was written on the front.

I took it from the owl hesitantly. It was an owl I'd never seen before although it must have been one familiar with the school to have found the Gryffindor common room.

But somehow . . . I knew who it was from.

I sent a startled look to Hermione and she smiled knowingly. "Come on Ron."

She announced. "We're going to the library."

"What? But Mione – "

She grabbed his hand (something which shut him up instantly) and dragged him up from his seat and out the room.

I looked around quickly, checking that nobody was anywhere near enough to me to read the contents of the letter I held in my hand. Assured that no-one was looking I turned back to the envelope.

My heart beating in my throat I unfolded the letter with trembling hands and began to read.

_Dear Harry, _

_Considering that our attempts to talk this through have ended less than successfully I thought I may try another method. There are some things I will never be able to tell you to your face; it is because of that, that I am now writing this letter to you_

_It may confirm your impression that I am a coward but I truly cannot speak of this . . . to anyone in fact. There are some memories that scar far too deeply for me to tell you of them. _

_But perhaps I can write it. That at least is my hope. _

_You were right – you could have put it in a far nicer way – but you were right. There is no justification for what I did – it wasn't the best thing to have done. _

_I know you're thinking: "Then why the fuck did you do it?" And fair enough . . . that's a good question. _

_But it's only in hindsight that I can admit that I had no right whatsoever. _

_At the time I was so convince that what I did was the only way forward – the only choice left to me. I was so in love with you that I thought that I would die from the sheer intensity of it. I spent ever night dreaming about you; about us. My world revolved around you and you were the reason my sun rose and set. And the only thing I wanted more than to be with you was to make sure that you never found out. I knew that if I ever told you how I felt, you wouldn't have believed me – I'd been too much of an arsehole to you to ever take it back. And if the event that you did believe me . . . you wouldn't have taken it well. Let's just look at last night and this morning for proof of that. _

_I was drunk when I changed time. I don't know how much of a difference that made but I was out of my mind on alcohol, . . . grief . . . love. I didn't even think the idea through and, in the first spontaneous act of my life, changed everything I knew and everything I'd ever been.. _

_You weren't the same in the other world. I don't know whether that was a curse or a blessing. A curse because the way you were meant that it all had to end. A blessing because now when I look at you I can tell the two of you apart enough so that it doesn't destroy me completely. _

_I mean . . . ok everytime I look at you I see things that have been. But in my mind I reasonably know that you're you and not him and so if I leaned over and kissed you I'd be flat on my back before I knew it. Lol ok that came out wrong. And it's only getting worse. But it really is a better image than the one of being knocked unconscious which I originally meant. Can you really blame a guy?_

_Well yes. I suppose **you** could._

_I understand that the thought of it sickens you but I cannot forget it. I hope you will forgive me that the time I spent in the other reality will always be remembered with a happiness I cannot describe. For me it is the light I cling to in the dark when everything seems hopeless. _

_And I'm beginning to realise that I don't deserve you and I never have. You're too good for me Harry. You always have been. _

_I could spend the rest of my life atoning for what I have done – trying to make it up to you but it would be no good. You and me – we're worlds apart. You're the type of person I could never be. And spending time with you is a dangerous thing because I'm tainted . . . and I don't want to taint you. But at the same time you make the darkness that much more bearable because when you're near me all the pain and the guilt and the fear goes away. Your presence is a comfort to me even as I worry that it is what will corrupt you. _

_But you don't have to worry about any of this. It is (as it always has been) **my** problem and I will deal with it by myself. You have enough problems without me becoming one. _

_I understand your position on the situation and you can be assured that it will be something that I will not mention again. If you still wish it to be the case then I will, as you would so nicely put it, 'stay the fuck away from you'. _

_It was never my intention to hurt you – in fact it was the opposite I had in mind. _

_Just know . . . that I'm not asking you for anything. I have no hidden motives or agendas and the reason I am doing this is simply to try and save you where I have done so badly at doing that in the past._

_And I want you to know . . . because it's something I will never be able to tell you that I love you. I always have. And you're a nice guy Harry, so I'm going to tell you not to beat yourself up about the fact that you will never feel the same way. You can't help the way you feel so please never feel guilty about that. _

_I hope one day you can forgive me for what I did and I hope that maybe we can eventually work past what's occurred and be friends. _

_Yours, _

_DLM. _

The letter fell soundlessly from my fingers.

Oh God.

Stunned I fell backwards in the sofa. That was not what I'd been expecting.

Anger yes. Hatred maybe.

But love . . . I'd not been expecting anymore. Neither had I been prepared for that mournful tone of passive worthlessness. As though I was some idol who he could only worship. And I couldn't bear it.

I couldn't bear that he thought that way – about me or himself. I wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he realised how amazing he was. How perfect. How beautiful. How intelligent. How it was me who didn't deserve him and not the other way around.

I hit myself on the forehead. Why was everything so difficult??

_Well . . . everything's so difficult because you thought it would be a wonderful idea to go rip the poor guy's heart out. Not content with that you then proceeded to stamp on it continuously. _

That made it even worse.

Even after I'd been such a git he'd taken the first step to us sorting this mess out and I really needed to respond in some way. The only trouble was that I had no idea where to begin with this entire situation.

I suppose that the first thing I needed to do was to confront and sort out the way I felt towards him.

I mean . . . I wanted him. That much I (Ron and Hermione) knew. And yes I liked him. Since I got to know him I'd discovered that he was actually a really fascinating person who had a lot going for him other than his looks.

But that didn't really match up with how I had felt during reading that letter. When I read those words 'I love you' I felt the strangest sensation. It was as though everything inside me had melted into a flurry of butterflies and sunshine. There was a ridiculous fountain of joy that threatened to erupt into shouts of happiness. And I just wanted to wrap my arms around him and never let him go because I –

Shit.

Oh shit.

I loved him. There was no other way to explain everything; my reaction, my current feelings, my desire to see him everyday even when I hated him. I loved him.

I Harry Potter was in love with Draco Malfoy.

And I didn't have a clue what to do about it.

* * *

**DRACO POV**

I'd made my move and now I'd retreated to the safety of the library where I was attempting to bury all my problems beneath a stack of books.

I'd been there for hours and had almost been able to forget the huge mess with Harry.

Ha. Yeah right.

All I could think about was his reaction to what I'd written. Wondering if he'd read it. Wondering if he hated me. Wondering whether he'd fallen madly in love with me and was on his way to confess his love.

I wish.

But somehow it wasn't as bad as it could have been. I was alone in a place that always seemed to be (to me anyway) tranquil and calm.

This is why I liked the library. It made things so simple and safe. Sometimes I wondered if it would better to live my life vicariously through books than just going out and living it. All life did was deal me a hand of pain over and over again.

I heard the chair opposite me creak and I stiffened, knowing who it was even before I saw them.

"Hi." Harry said awkwardly.

I offered a weak smile in response, wondering whether he was going to turn the tables on me and hit me this time.

"I thought I'd find you in here."

"I'm just that predictable." I joked weakly, barely able to speak past the fear and tension that his presence had brought me.

"Or I've just gotten to know you a lot better than you thought."

"I bet you're regretting that now." I couldn't hide the sadness in my voice.

"Do you really think that?" he asked softly.

"Yes." I answered simply. "Yes I do."

Harry ran his fingers through his hair, looking down at the floor before he began to speak. "Look . . . I've been doing a lot of thinking and I've realised something that I really think I should – what?" he broke off seeing me staring at him.

I raised my fingers towards his face, hesitating and stopping briefly before my fingertips touched his skin. "Your nose." The fragment of a sentence was a question which he understood.

He pressed the explosion of purple gently. "I told Madame Pomfrey not to bother fixing it." A wry smile. "I kinda deserved it."

"Yeah. You kinda did."

He raised his eyes uncertainly to meet mine, unsure as to whether the memory of what he had done had made me suddenly angry. Seeing the amused smile on my face he relaxed and smiled back hesitantly.

The atmosphere calmed slightly.

"Does it hurt?" I asked with a twinge of guilt.

"You have no idea. I never realised how used to having things healed by magic I was."

"Well at least the only things that hurt you are ones you have the choice to heal."

I hadn't meant to say that. Especially not in the bitterly angry tone it had come out in.

The silence was again broken by his voice which was full of distressed guilt.

"I'm trying here ok? I don't know what to say. What to do."

I sighed. "You don't have to do anything Harry. Nothing's changed . . . not really."

He laughed softly, tiredly. "Who are you trying to fool? Everything's changed and you know it."

"It doesn't have to have done if you don't want it to." I whispered, keeping my eyes firmly fixed on the table. Trying to appear fascinated by the etched messages of boredom and the blotches that coated the surface.

"I don't know what I want." he murmured.

"I don't know what you want either." I replied evenly. "And I'd say that you have a better idea of where you want to go from here than I do. I'm not psychic. You have to tell me these things."

"I know. That's why there was something I wanted to say."

I waited expectantly.

He paused, looking as though he was about to say something that would change his life. Then his body went limp and he closed his eyes. "What was I like?"

That hadn't been what he wanted to say and my eyes narrowed slightly. But if he didn't want to talk about it then who was I to force him.

"Different." I answered shortly.

"Different how?"

I sighed slightly, pressing my fingers to my temples. "I don't know. Darker. Angrier. In Slytherin. Wittier. Nicer – to me anyway." I amended at his look of confusion. "Sexy." I smirked sadly. "A complete slut actually."

He blinked; obviously taken aback. "I was a slut?"

"Oh yeah. Totally. It was a bit disconcerting at first. I mean I wasn't used to seeing you stick your tongue in people's ears at such close proximity to you. But eventually it was just really hot."

He flushed. "Uhh thanks I think."

"Hey I said he was hot – not you." I said teasingly.

Well this was a relief. There I'd been scared to death that this was going to be the most awkward, uncomfortable thing I'd ever experienced and it was actually turning out to be quite a lot of fun. I'd never been able to tease Harry before without him actually snapping and trying to kill me.

"Oh come on. Are you saying that I'm not even the teensiest bit attractive?"

I raised an eyebrow at him in a 'what are you doing asking me stupid questions like that' style.

"Good point." he answered with a grin. "So tell me more about me."

"He's not actually you, you know that right?"

"He could have been." Harry answered quietly. "All it would have taken was for a ten second period of time to be different and I would have been him and everything you lived through would have been reality."

I felt something in my stomach tighten up and I bit the inside of my cheek to show the pain from showing in my eyes. He just had to go and say the one thing that had been haunting me since I returned to this reality.

"Did you love him?" he asked hesitantly.

Ok suddenly this was less fun. Talk about depressing, serious subjects.

"I don't really want to talk about that." I shifted awkwardly.

"Oh. Ok." he looked down at his feet awkwardly.

"Yes I did." I answered with a sigh. I owed Harry an answer to that question at least.

"More than you loved me?" the question was not confrontational but simply curious.

However my face still blanched; unable to believe that he had asked me that. It was the only question I didn't know the answer to.

"Ok. I took that too far. Sorry. Let's pretend I never said that." he said hurriedly.

"I'm happy with that plan." I agreed.

"Draco I – "

He sounded more serious and determined than he had this entire conversation and that scared me slightly. In fact it scared me enough to start babbling.

"Draco huh? I'm glad you finally decided what to call me. Dra-Malfoy just really wasn't cutting it. I mean not that – "

He clamped his hand over my mouth. "Will you just – stop? For a minute? I have something I want to tell you and I don't want you to say anything until I've finished. Okay?" he removed his hand cautiously.

"Okay." I whispered.

A second and then he began.

"Draco look I – I wanted to tell you that . . . " he paused, looking slightly nauseated. "That . . . " he took a deep breath in struggling for words. "That – I'm really sorry I reacted the way I did. I was an arsehole. A complete and utter arsehole. I found out probably what equates to your deepest darkest secret and instead of talking to you about it I tried to beat the crap out of you. It shouldn't have been you asking for my forgiveness – I should have been asking for yours."

Stunned, my mouth opened and closed several times. I could not have replied even if I had wanted to.

"The things I said – I didn't mean them. Not as much as you seem to think I do. I don't mind the fact that you're gay. I don't mind that you're in love with me. In fact it's kind of . . . nice to know that someone can feel that way about me. I don't even mind that you changed time – it was a pretty obsessive thing to do – not to mention stupid, but who am I to talk about stupidity? I've done some really stupid things in my time and what I did to you was one of them." he paused. "It's also one of the ones I regret the most. You're a good person Draco and the last thing you ever needed was me saying those horrible, hateful things to you. Please . . . Please forgive me."

I closed my eyes, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Harry," I sighed, "I would forgive you anything and I think you know that."

He looked at me seriously for a long time, until I almost began to fidget with self-consciousness. "Yes." he said finally. "Yes I do know that. And I think that's why I'm sorry."

Unsure what he meant I frowned slightly, doodling slightly on the piece of parchment I had before me.

There was something hanging between us. Something I didn't understand and maybe didn't even want to. Whatever it was – he knew and he wasn't planning on telling me anytime soon.

Which only left me to debate what it might be.

I was so wrapped up in this 'guess what Harry's not telling me' game that when he spoke I almost missed it.

"Does it hurt?" his voice cracked slightly as he repeated my earlier question back to me.

I looked at him and the tops of his cheekbones flushed in a mixture of embarrassment and guilt.

Unconsciously my fingers moved to cover my heart, feeling the small pulses thud into my fingers. And I thought about everything that had happened.

Everything I felt sitting here with him.

I smiled sadly, looking at his bright green eyes which were filled with curiosity and something else . . . something I couldn't identify. "More than you'll ever know."

* * *

Oh that was terrible. But hey – at least I forced it out. It's not like it can get any worse now anyway - that's something to be thankful for. Plus it actually could have been worse.

Thanks for reading (I know it can't have been easy) and please please please review (and please please please try to be nice)!!!

Cherrycola69


	12. Chapter 12

  
  
Sorry this chapter's taken such a long time. I've had so much work to do that I haven't had time for sleep let alone writing anything that isn't coursework.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed and thanks if you're still reading this!

Without further delay...

**HARRY POV**

There was something intrinsically wrong with the fact that I couldn't tell Draco how I felt about him. Everytime I opened my mouth to tell him nothing came out, or (even worse) that nasty stuttering began that left him looking at me like I was crazy.

It was infuriating. Competely and utterly infuriating. And it had been driving me mad all day. Everytime I saw him I just wanted to hide, cover my face with my hands and beat my head against the nearest solid object.

In fact I'd actually tried that tactic in Care of Magical Creatures which earned me a few puzzled looked from Hagrid.

Sadly even I'd realised that enough was enough (Plus my head hurt too much to continue with this tactic - a guy can only take so many bruises). So now...I was going to turn to the master.

"Mione can I talk to you about something?" I asked.

She crossed over to me, nursing a cup of tea in her hands. "Of course you can."

"And you won't laugh. Or get mad. Or just stare at me blankly for an hour?"

"I'll try not to." she assured me with a small smile.

Luckily there was no-one else in the common room (Mione was skipping dinner to do some extra reading and I'd stayed behind to talk to her) so there wouldn't be some huge scene when I said what I was about to say.

I took a deep breath and said the words to Hermione that I'd been so unable to say to Draco.

"I think I'm in love with him."

The cup shattered on impact with the floor.

"You think you're...what?" she asked weakly, sinking to a chair.

"I think I'm in love with him." I repeated.

"You're think you're in love with... Draco?"

I nodded.

"Draco Malfoy?"

I nodded again.

"Draco Malfoy your arch-rival and son of Voldemort's now deceased right hand man?"

And again.

"Right. Just wanted to clarify."

She contemplated it for a few more seconds, looking completely bewildered.

"But – but – how? How did you suddenly go from hating him to loving him in the space of three minutes? When did all of this happen? Aren't you supposed to be straight???"

"Ah well." I had the grace to look embarrassed. "I kind of forgot to tell you about that."

Her eyes narrowed. "About what?"

"I'm gay." I announced.

"I inferred that much from you being in love with Draco."

"And I've had a crush on Draco for about the last couple of months."

Her mouth opened and closed. "And you didn't tell me?"

"Well I didn't know what to say. I was having trouble with the whole 'gay and in love with my enemy' thing and I didn't really want everyone to know."

"Harry! You moron! You have to tell someone about these things! Even if it wasn't me you should of talked to someone – I wouldn't have been offended if you'd talked to someone else."

"Ah...well..." I chewed on my lips nervously. "I sort of told Ron."

Silence.

"You told Ron?"

I nodded.

(I seemed to be doing an awful lot of nodding. In fact...just call me Noddy and get me a hat with a bell on the end).

"Ok **now **I'm offended."

"What? But you said – "

"It's not the fact that you told Ron. It's the fact that you _told _Ron!"

"Pardon?"

Did girls always make this little sense? If so, I'm kinda relieved I'm gay.

"Well I don't mind that he knows. What I do mind is the fact that you thought Ron of all people would be a better person to talk to about this than me!"

She fell back in the chair shaking her head.

"Sorry." I offered.

"Ron!" she repeated again in despair.

"He was actually quite helpful."

A pause. "He was?"

"Yeah. He gave me this whole plan about how to seduce Malfoy and – " I broke off, seeing the look in her eyes. "What?"

"He gave you a plan about how to seduce Draco?" she repeated slowly.

"Uh, yeah."

"I see."

I waited expectantly.

"And did this plan tell you to almost beat the crap out him, call him a fag and generally behave like a narrow minded arsehole?"

"Of course it didn't."

"And did it tell you to aggravate him to the point where he hit you?"

"Mione don't be – "

"Because if it didn't tell you to do any of those things then clearly it didn't work out the way it was supposed to do. Therefore how exactly are you expecting me to accept that Ron's how to seduce Draco plan was the best way to go?"

"Mione I'm a guy!!" I wailed. "We're not supposed to do the whole emotions thing! We just shag and we're happy. We're quite simple creatures. I didn't need some huge emotional talk – I needed a how to seduce Malfoy plan!"

"Harry – you're in love with the guy! How is that not doing the 'whole emotions thing'???"

Good question.

"Uhmm..." I replied intelligently.

"Bloody Ronald." she muttered underneath her breath. "Always messes everything up."

I felt I should stick up for him. But I didn't. Mainly because I didn't actually want him to know that I did 'do the whole emotions thing'.

"You have to tell him." she said suddenly.

"I do?"

"Yes."

"Well I was trying to tell him last night...but it didn't turn out that well."

She narrowed her eyes calculatingly at me. "You know, Harry, for someone in Gryffindor who has faced the most feared wizard in the world five times, you really are a complete wimp."

"Hey!" I objected. "I am not!"

I so was.

"Really? So would you explain why, even though you know that Draco's madly in love with you, you're too afraid to even tell him that you like him?"

"I can't tell him I like him _because_ I like him."

She rolled her eyes. "Great. Now you're a hypocrite as well as a wimp. Weren't you the one telling him that if he loved you he should have told you instead of changing time?"

Why was I friends with people who could find the flaws in my behaviour

this easily??

"Face it Harry. If you don't tell him then you're going against everything you're supposed to be."

"But how???" I exclaimed. "How am I supposed to tell him?"

"Oh," she said innocently, "was that not in your 'how to seduce Draco plan'?"

"Mione!"

"Well personally I think, 'Draco I'm in love with you' would work quite

well."

"I can't say that!"

"Why not?"

"Because – because – I just can't."

"Harry," she thundered, "that poor boy is sitting there with a broken heart because he thinks you could never love him – an idea that came from your mouth in fact – so unless you want me to lose every single last good opinion of you, you better bloody tell him how you damn well feel."

She was scary when she was mad.

"Ok." I answered meekly.

My fear of telling Draco was nothing compared to my fear of Hermione.

"I'll tell him after Quidditch practice ok?"

She smiled triumphantly, and with a sinking heart I trudged to Quidditch practise, silently bemoaning my friends, my taste in men and my very existence.

* * *

**DRACO POV**

Hermione stood awkwardly at my desk. Barely a minute earlier I had risen my head from where it lay on a pile of extremely boring books (in fact my cheek was pressed so hard against the pages that I was a little worried that I might have the writing imprinted on my face) at the sound of a knock on the door.

A knock that turned out to be Hermione.

She seemed nervous, which wasn't surprising considering A) my reputation and B) the fact that this was the first time I'd seen her since Harry had found out.

"Are you angry?" she asked quietly.

"I was." I answered simply. "In fact if you'd come near me before this morning I'd probably have torn you apart."

I looked over at her to gauge her reaction. There was a little less surprise in her eyes than I would have expected. "Then again I suppose you knew that which was _why_ you didn't come near me before this morning."

She looked slightly sheepish. "Maybe."

"Well I'm glad you didn't or else I'd be sitting here right now regretting murdering my closest friend."

An expression of relief crossed her face. "So you're not planning on killing me anytime soon then?"

"Well..." I considered it, "not unless you're here to tell me that you let it slip to Weasley as well."

"Give me some credit Draco. I'm not entirely stupid."

"My mistake." I quipped.

She grinned at me. "So we're ok?"

"Yeah. We are."

And we were. I didn't need some huge guilt trip. She was my friend and I knew she was sorry – I knew she'd never meant to hurt me. And strangely...for once that knowledge was enough.

"So...how did it go?"

I sent her a curious look.

"With Harry?" she amended. "I mean I've heard his view but I really want

to hear yours."

"Oh. Do you mean before or after he shoved me against the wall?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Maybe I don't want to know."

I felt my cheeks redden as I realised what I'd said. "Not in that way. Geez Granger get your mind out the gutter."

She smirked mischievously at me. "How can I help it when you say things

like that?"

"Mione. If Harry had pushed me against a wall and started making out with

me there wouldn't even have been a question of me tearing you apart. I'd have been praising the day you were born."

"Damn. I missed out on a lot there." she frowned slightly. "So...how is everything with you and Harry at the moment. Are you still angry at him?"

"No. Everything's fine now."

"Everything's fine?" she blinked. "What kind of powers did that letter have anyway? It made Harry suddenly happy to be around you again and it made you forgive him for being a complete arsehole. What did you write???"

"He didn't tell you?" I questioned suspiciously.

"No. Harry's not that kind of person. I know I'm his friend but he wouldn't want to broadcast how you felt to anyone without asking you first – angry at you or not."

"That's a relief. I don't think I could ever face you again if you knew what I'd said."

"This isn't another kinky sex thing is it?"

I glared at her.

"I'll take that as a no. So have you forgiven him?"

"Forgiven him? For what? Understandably freaking out when finding out that I'd done something really stupid?"

She looked at me seriously. "How about for almost breaking your heart?"

I sighed. "Mione he didn't know how I felt. Not really anyway. Now he does and...I don't think he'll ever do anything like that again. Not purposefully anyway."

"Isn't being around him always going to hurt?"

"To some degree. But I just have to cope with it. That's not something that's just going to magically vanish. Some things can't be healed that easily."

"What would heal it?" she asked softly. "Being with him?"

I shot her a look.

"I just want to know." she explained hastily. "I want to know what your thoughts are on actually being with him."

"I've kind to a decision about that." I said slowly.

"Really?" she asked eagerly.

"Yeah. I've decided that nothing's ever going to happen."

"Oh Draco you don't know that. Harry – "

"No," I interrupted. "Not that I don't think anything's ever going to happen .

I mean that nothing's ever going to happen."

"I'm confused."

"I've been doing a lot of thinking and I've decided that it would be wrong of

me to every have anything with Harry."

"I'm really confused."

"With everything I know – everything that might happen. What kind of person would I be if I ever let there be anything between us?"

"A sensible person?" she offered.

"I'm not just going to wait around for something to happen. I have to live my life. I have to move on. And if I'm forever thinking that me and Harry might end up together then that's never going to happen."

"But you love him."

"And that killed him. I watched him die and I will not do that again. The only way to make certain of that it to make sure that nothing happens between us. We can be friends sure but never more than that."

"So you're telling me that if Harry were to walk up to you and tell you that he was madly in love with you and wanted to be with you, you would ...?"

"Tell him that I appreciated the sentiment but it would never work out and it would be better for us to just be friends." I returned calmly.

She had gone extremely pale. "Oh."

"You have to understand. I'm doing this because it's best for Harry."

"Yeah I wouldn't be to certain about that one." she sounded like she was in shock.

"He shouldn't have to be worried about being around me because of any feelings I might have for him. All that flirting I did with him before he knew – that was a bad, bad idea that will never be repeated."

She was beginning to look extremely worried. "Draco I – "

"I can't go through all this again. It would be better for nothing to ever happen between us."

"And what about Harry? What about his views?"

"Mione. I really don't think that Harry would have any problems with me deciding that I was going to move on. I mean he's straight for fuck's sake."

"Yeah sure." she agreed weakly.

"He's straight and I'm not. Ok he might find it flattering but there's more at stake here than his ego. I'm talking about his life. I will not do anything to jeopardise him living through this war. Relationships complicate things – they make battles harder."

"I think you're making a very big mistake."

"I think that this is one of the first things I've decided that isn't a very big mistake."

That second there was another knock on the door.

With an irritated sigh I rose and flung the door open.

Harry.

A very dirty, sweaty, sexy Harry in his Quidditch robes.

Damn I must not have these thoughts.

He smiled weakly. "Hey Draco. I was wondering if I could talk to you about something."

"NO!" there was a thump.

Harry and I both looked behind me to find the source of both the shriek and

the thump.

Hermione suddenly appeared at the door, her eyes wide.

"Am I not allowed to talk to Draco?" Harry asked with narrowed eyes.

"No. You're not."

I sent them both a confused look.

"Why not?" he questioned.

"You're supposed to be...supposed to be...in detention!"

"I don't have detention." Harry replied with a frown, folding his arms across his chest.

She looked flummoxed for a second. "You do now!" she pulled out a slip of paper.

"Uhmm you can't give him detention Hermione." I reminded her. "You can only take points away."

"Oh. Right." she paused for thought, "Well you're supposed to be seeing Madam Hooch."

"No I'm not!"

"You are. She asked to see you."

"When?"

"Earlier."

"She wanted to see me now?"

"Yes! She asked that you be that at..." she snuck a look at her watch, "twenty five past six." she finished weakly.

The glancing at the watch had really killed that one.

"Mione." he hissed. "I'm trying to tell Draco that – "

"I know that Harry." she snapped. "And I'm trying to tell you that you have to go and see Madam Hooch **now**."

"But I need to tell him that – "

"No you don't."

I watched this interaction with amusement, concern and rapidly growing bewilderment.

"Hermione why are you doing this?" he ground out between gritted teeth.

"Harry do you trust me?"

"Yes." he answered suspiciously.

"Then trust me when I say that you need to not be here right now."

Ok that was it.

"Harry can be here if he wants to be here." I said with a puzzled frown. "I don't mind."

"It's ok." Harry replied, backing away from the door. "I'll go."

"But I thought you needed to talk to me about something."

He looked at Hermione. "Apparently not." his tone was that of resigned bewilderment.

"Oh... ok." I said in an 'I'm confused and not even trying to hide it' tone.

"Well I'll be seeing you Draco." He looked at me strangely for a few seconds and then shook his head as if clearing a daze. He offered a quick, bright (albeit perplexed) smile.

"Bye." I said softly; sadly.

He turned and departed, his robes sweeping out behind him as he strode down the corridor.

"I better be going as well." Hermione said hastily. "See you later Draco."

She was gone before I time to object or question, leaving me to ponder the age old question of exactly what it was that made Gryffindors so weird.

My current hypothesis was that there was something in their water.

* * *

**HARRY POV**

"Will you tell me what the hell is going on?" I snapped, rounding on her as soon as we reached a deserted part of the corridor.

"What's going on is that three seconds before you entered to profess your undying love for Draco, he turned around and told me that he's going to make sure that nothing was ever going to happen between the two of you."

Stunned I stopped dead. "What?"

"He's decided that it's not worth the pain, difficulty or hassle of trying to make you fall in love with him."

"Well that's just stupid. I'm already in love with him."

"Oh yeah because he knows that doesn't he Harry?" she asked sarcastically.

"Well maybe he would if you'd let me tell him." I retorted.

She sighed. "Truthfully I don't think it would make a difference. I tried the 'what would you do if Harry told you he loved you' scenario and it didn't even make a dent. I think it might be best if you just waited a while or even

gave up on the whole – "

"No." I interrupted sharply.

She faltered and looked at me inquisitively. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"I mean no." I folded my arms. "I'm not just going to give up on the one thing I really want just because he thinks it's better for me."

"Harry he seemed pretty sure. I'm not sure you should..."

"You said it yourself Mione. He has a broken heart because I told him I would never love him. And I plan to change that. I plan to change that to a great degree."

"With all respect Harry, you only just worked out you liked him. Are you really sure that you should try to make him fall for you again?"

"Yes. I am completely and utterly sure Mione. I have to have him." I said simply. "I'm not just going to watch him walk away from what could be the best relationship of our lives."

"Or the **last** relationship of your lives." she muttered beneath her breath.

"Whose side are you on?"

"Sometimes it's hard to tell."

"I have to be with Mione." I told her again.

"I know. It's just," she sighed, "Harry I really don't think you have any idea how much he loved you. When you died he really never thought he'd even be able to make it through the day. He's only just got to the point where he feels ok about life again. And I don't want you fucking that up because you've just suddenly decided you're in love with him. He's more fragile than you think."

"I'm not going to hurt him." I assured her. "Nothing is going to go wrong between the two of us. We should be together. And I will do everything in my power to make sure he realises that."

Hermione looked slightly put off by the manic, determined gleam in my eyes. She began protesting again but I didn't listen, too busy formulating a plot in my head.

I was going to get Draco Malfoy.

And that's all there was to it.

So that's chapter twelve. Please review cuz I think it's the lack of reviews I've been getting that is slowing me down.

Thanks for reading!!!

Cherrycola69


	13. Chapter 13

I decided to make an effort and try to review all my reviewers. If by some miracle I missed you off then I'm really really sorry.

Frogslayr – Lol. I like the way you think. I would love the whole grovelling thing to happen but I don't think the characters will let me – they have the control here not me. Have you read my other ff "This Side of Me"? You might appreciate its humour (shameless plugging I know but hey). Thanks for your review.

spunky slytherin – I can imagine the dance. I have my own one but I'd die of embarrassment if anyone saw mine. Glad you like the fanfic so much. Thanks for reviewing

Brenna8 – Uhh I think I actually meant "I have to be with **him** Mione". Damn. Thanks for pointing that out and reviewing.

Wwwendy – even I don't know what they're going to do next. Could be any of the options you mentioned. Thanks for reviewing!

Spamy – Now you're learning the way I think. Congratulations. It takes some people years. To answer your question – I have no idea how many chapters there are left. 5 maybe? I don't know. Thanks for reviewing

Solis – I'm very proud of Harry's backbone. It's a new creation that I think is one of my better ideas. Lol. Let's see how he puts it into use. Thanks for reviewing

Midnightprowler – Wouldn't it have been so much easier if they didn't choose opposite directions at the same time quite independently. What kind of mean author would make them do that. Oh...yeah. Me. Lol. I'm in a weird mood. Thanks for reviewing.

BlahnessMucho – oh I love your name so much. You have to remember that Draco's a Slytherin still and hence very good at running away from problems, pain and possible death. Thanks for your review!

Draco-Is-A-God – I agree. Draco should get what he deserves. Eventually. After I play around with him and Harry for a while longer. Thanks for reviewing!

Robin the bird – I will try to stick to your plan. I like it. However the chances of me completely sticking to it are slim.

Sara – Harry's not the bad guy he's just confused and confusion tends to make people do stupid things that hurt other people. His reactions **are** perfectly normal but they can still suck. Thanks for reviewing!

Alora – you think that was a mean cliffhanger? (cackles evilly) I'll show you a mean cliffhanger. Lol. Thanks for reviewing,

Reflectivelvet – I like your invented words. I should start doing that. Yeah. I think I will. Thanks for reviewing.

LadySilvrene – aww I think sick and demented is a little harsh. Mean and complicating maybe but not sick and demented. Lol. Sorry your brain hurts. Mine does too most of the time. Thanks for reviewing

Rowenna – Yay! You like it! I'm happy. I like it too. Sometimes. Especially the line you like – I like it too. I do have little flashes of truth in there sometimes. Thanks for reviewing.

Kitten – yeah probably. But they're made of strong stuff. They'll survive. Thanks for reviewing!

Meetima Maranwe – typos . . . the bane of my existence. Damn pesky things. Glad you like it. Thanks for reviewing.

Darknephilim – isn't bouncing fun?? Yeah. I was tempted not to update just to leave you bouncing but I decided that that would be mean. Thanks for reviewing.

Nick-the-Evil – wow. That is pretty much the coolest review I've ever had. I think I have a crush on you now. Like, seriously. Unless that's too weird in which case I don't. Lol. If I had a cookie I so would share it with you (I'm too greedy to give you the whole cookie). Ooh I just read your review again. Talk about an ego trip. I like it. Always say nice things about me. That's a command. Thankyou so so so so so so so so so much for reviewing!

Wintermoon2 – do you know what? I think he might. Thanks for reviewing!

Apple314159 – I'm getting there. Very slowly but I'm getting there. Thanks for reviewing!

Willow – Harry's plan should be good. Well probably not good as in totally effective but good as in totally amusing. Thanks for reviewing!

Uples – I'm struggling to get the right amount of Draco weakness. Review again and tell me how I do. Thanks for reviewing

Mydogisfudge – Glad you like it. Thanks for reviewing.

Royal Midnight – I wouldn't really have given up. I just like Blackmail. As long as it gets me reviews that is. Thanks for reviewing!

Jetta-monkey – hope that this one meets your approval. Thanks for reviewing

Innocence-doesnt-pay – think of it this way – if nothing was going to happen I wouldn't be writing about it. Just remember that. Lol. I don't sleep anyway so that's not an issue when it comes to writing. Thanks for reviewing.

Mon2 – no Draco does have slightly better manners than Harry when someone's in love with you doesn't he? Thanks for reviewing

Secretly obsesses – Yeah a beta would be good. Email me so I can get your address if that's ok. Thanks for reviewing.

* * *

**Harry POV**

Who knew that anyone could be this mulishly, stupidly, mind numbingly, irritatingly, bloody mindedly stubborn?

Certainly not me.

If I had then maybe I wouldn't have sounded so confident about my ability for seduction.

Draco Malfoy had been ignoring every singly one of my advances for the last week. And trust me . . . it wasn't as though they were subtle.

Maybe they'd started out that way but once I'd realised he wasn't responding I decided to take it up a notch. He obviously hadn't noticed, I'd thought, obviously needed to be blunter.

Oh how naïve I'd been.

True to his word Draco Malfoy had simply taken no notice of anything I'd done.

I was beginning to think that even if I snuck into his bed in the middle night completely naked he'd just turn to me and say, with that new, horrible bright smile of his, "Stuck on your Potions homework Harry?" and try to explain whatever we'd learned in class that day?

That thought must have caused me to frown because suddenly I heard the very object of my thoughts to speak.

"You ok?"

"Yeah." I saw an opportunity and went for it. "My shoulder's just starting to get really stiff." I emphasised the last word and watched him twitch slightly.

"Hang on, just let me fix it."

Slowly, casually I lifted my arms and stretched, letting out a soft as I leaned backwards in the chair.

I heart a sharp hiss and glanced at him surreptitiously. His grey eyes were glued to the glimmer of skin that was revealed where my shirt lifted.

_Yes! Finally. Some sign of interest. _

A small smirk curved the corners of my mouth upwards.

At last something was going my way.

But then, suddenly aware I was watching, he snapped his eyes away, a flush colouring his cheeks. He began to mutter something under his breath and I strained my ears to hear it.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid. Stop it Draco for fuck's sake. Stop looking at him" was vaguely along the lines of what I heard.

With a sigh of frustration I turned back to my books, trying to think of another move to make.

I couldn't do the 'Draco I dropped my pencil could you please bend over and get it for me so I can then make an admiring comment about your ass' plan – I'd done that too many times.

And probably not the 'I can't tell what you're saying can you lean a bit closer to me so that I can hear you' trick because last time he almost sent me to Madame Pomfrey.

Well . . . maybe the –

Belatedly I realised he was glaring at me.

"Potter are you paying attention?" he asked impatiently.

"Huh?" I saw his face and rapidly changed my answer, "uh yeah."

"Why am I even bothering to help you if you won't even listen?"

_Because I'm so hot, sexy, cute and adorable that you just want to spend time with me?_

Yeah I wished.

"I'm sorry it's . . . really hard to concentrate in here."

With you sitting there so fucking sexy and unable to touch you.

"So hot." I murmured.

"What?"

Crap did I say that out loud?

"Uhh . . . it's really hot in here." I slid closer to him, trapping him between me and the wall. "Don't you think so Draco?" I practically purred the sentence.

"Uhh – I – uhmm – " he licked his lips and I felt a jolt of lust run through me.

"I – " he tried again.

"Yes?" I whispered, pressing him closer to the wall.

"I have to go."

Before I knew what was happening he had managed to slide away and was halfway across the library.

Annoyed I sat up. Not only was that rude but it was also so unfair!!! What did a guy have to do around here to get noticed???

* * *

"I just don't understand!" I wailed to Hermione. "I've done everything short of – " wait. Did I really want Hermione to know things like my 'only use in case of emergency plans'? "Well I've done a lot anyway." I continued not too smoothly.

"Maybe you aren't being obvious enough." She suggested.

"Ron couldn't be as obvious as I'm being." I snapped.

And that was saying something.

"Hey." Ron looked offended.

"Sorry." I apologised hastily. "It's just that I'm so confused!" a thought occurred to me. "Am I ugly Mione?"

"Harry of course you're not ugly."

"But I must be! Why else wouldn't he like me?"

"Your modesty perhaps?"

I ignored her sarcasm. "I must be too ugly to even look at."

"Harry you're not ugly!" she exclaimed with irritation. "Is he Ron?"

Ron screwed up his nose and examined me critically. "Well I wouldn't do you mate, but that's cuz I'm straight not because you're ugly."

Slightly mollified I considered the situation. "Well then I just don't

understand. I followed every step of Ron's plan and nothing happened.

Nothing. Nada. Zip."

"You're following my plan?" Ron gave me an uncharacteristically chirpy grin. "Cool."

"Well I'm not anymore." I amended. "I ran through your plan in the first

week."

"He must be one strong willed guy."

"Sadly, he is."

"Well you know Harry I did tell you right from the beginning that he seemed very certain." Hermione informed me. "It was you who decided that this whole thing was such a good idea."

"I'm aware of that Mione but thanks for reminding me that I'm failure and it was all my fault to begin with!"

"So you actually followed my plan?" Ron interrupted, now sporting a confused frown.

"Yes! Yes I did!"

"Why?" he asked in bewilderment.

I stopped. "Huh?"

"Why would you be stupid enough to use one of my plans?" he looked stunned. About as stunned as I now felt.

"Excuse me???" I ignored Hermione muttering "that's what I've been saying all along."

"Well why wouldn't you ask Hermione. She's way better at this kind of stuff than I am."

"Because you assured me that you had given me a foil proof plan to seduce someone."

"I did."

"Well then what the fuck's the problem?" I exclaimed.

"The problem is that you're not trying to seduce Malfoy. You're trying to make him fall in love with you."

My mouth opened and closed, unable to think of a response. In the end I just sat down.

Not meeting any type of objection Ron continued. "I mean you never told me you were in love with him. If you'd told me that then I never would have let you even contemplate using the plan. I thought you just wanted to shag him not spend the rest of your life with him."

"I – " I attempted to speak but couldn't decide what to say after my initial personal pronoun.

"Malfoy's already loved you. He's already had his heart broken by you. It's already ended for him."

I'd kind of told Ron the highlights of Draco's other world. Not any bits that could prove to be potentially embarrassing for Draco (i.e. his reasons for it, the way he felt about it and the fact that he'd actually performed the spell) but enough so that I could actually talk to him about Draco without lying.

"I know that Ron."

"Yeah. So what are you doing about it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you really think seducing him is the best way of going about this? The guy's probably destroyed by what happened. Sooner or later you're going to have to deal with the emotional side. Sex isn't everything."

Hermione and I both looked stunned.

"That is something I never thought I'd hear you say." I said in wonder.

He sent me a glare. "If you want Malfoy to fall in love with you then you better start behaving like you're in love with him; not that you just want to screw a mass of hormones from your body."

You know, despite his phrasing, Ron was making sense. A lot of sense. So much sense, in fact, that I was wondering where my best friend had gone and what had replaced him.

Hermione seemed to be sharing these thoughts but unlike me, she was staring at him with a slightly dreamy look on her face.

Maybe someday they'd get round to taking their own advice.

* * *

**Draco POV **

Harry had been hitting on me for the last two and a half weeks.

That is something that I have always wished to say. However now that it's actually been happening I'm not sure I really want to say it.

Quite frankly it had just been bizarre.

Really bizarre.

Every opportunity he got he was making some kind of dirty comment, getting as close to me as possible or just flirting with me.

And it was driving me insane.

I mean . . . I knew what he was doing.

Hermione must have told him what I had said.

He was trying to see how far he could push me. In order to trust me he was testing me.

And fuck was it testing.

The way he was behaving was just like the other Harry. And with that Harry

I'd just have leaned over and kissed him and everything would have worked out . . . sticky.

Now the only stickiness was the sticky situation I was in.

Acting on my desires would only make sure he didn't trust me, as well as breaking every promise I had made myself. I couldn't do that. And if this horrible torment (full of dreams I felt even guilty for having) was the result then so be it.

A knock at the door disturbed me from my contemplation. Somehow (probably just the fact that I was very aware that I had no luck whatsoever) I wasn't that surprised when it turned out to be Harry.

"There was something I needed to ask you."

"Come in."

Assuming him to be here to ask something about the Order or Voldemort or yet another question about the other reality I was stunned when I heard what actually came out of his mouth.

"Do you believe in fate?"

I arched an eyebrow at him. "You came all the way here to ask me if I believed in fate?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Well . . . do you never think that maybe all of this was fated? That you were meant to fall in love with me. That you were meant to change time. That the other me was fated to die. That you were meant to be a spy."

My eyes fixed to the floor I felt my face drain of colour. And then I heard something which scared me.

**That we were meant to be together. **

Had he said that?

My eyes jerked upwards. He didn't look like he'd spoken but that hadn't sounded like one of my thoughts.

"There's no such thing as fate." I said, my confusion making me sound more curt than I meant to be. "It's just a word people throw around to take the blame off them. Life's not predestined – it's what you make it. People make decisions- they choose what they want to do with their lives. And if they screw up then it's their fault. "

He smiled slightly, a sad look in his eyes. "That's a bit of a cynical view."

"No it's a realistic point of view."

"Really?" his green eyes bore into me. "Or are you just so intent on punishing yourself that you can't find the faith to believe?"

"I deserve to be punished." I murmured.

A hand gently touched my shoulder and I jumped at the contact; both so familiar and so alien at the same time.

"No. You don't." he whispered. "You did what was right."

"How do you know it was right?" To my horror I felt tears prick in my eyes and I quickly looked down. "**I** don't even know it was right."

Gently he tilted my head up to meet his eyes. They were full of something.

Something I didn't recognise. Something I hadn't seen before. A wistful longing that made it suddenly hard to breathe. "Stop it."

The tone was almost tender and I felt apprehension rise in the pit of my stomach. This wasn't right. This shouldn't be happening.

"Stop what?" I swallowed.

He was so close. So close that all I could see, all that I knew was him. There was nothing apart from the two of us, and even those boundaries blurred so much that I couldn't tell us apart. I couldn't tell which one of us was shaking and which one of us was still.

"Stop torturing yourself – you did what was right." He repeated.

"I killed him!" I choked. "He trusted me and I killed him! And nothing I can do can make it right. Nothing can take that away."

"Draco," his breath caught, "I forgive you. He's me and I'm him. And I forgive you so he must."

"But you're not," I whispered, tears filling my eyes and causing the scene in front of me to waiver. "You're not him. And he wasn't you. You weren't alike at all. I loved both of you. I loved you both and I lost you both."

A part of me knew I shouldn't be telling him this but I couldn't help it. I didn't even think before the words spilled out.

"I killed him. I was the only person he trusted and I murdered him."

I didn't know when his arms had circled me but I sank into him gratefully, burying my face into his neck.

He felt like home.

And somehow it numbed the pain.

We were both shaking now. That piece of knowledge hit me. For different reasons maybe but we both trembled together.

"Draco . . . " he murmured softly, his fingers gently tangling the hair at the base of my neck.

Why was he so close?

Why was he doing this?

Why did this feel so right?

It was so hard to draw breath. So hard to do anything but draw back slightly and look him in the face.

"Draco . . . " his warm breath caressed my cheek and I shuddered. His thumb reached up and wiped away a tear I hadn't even known was there.

"Potter don't do this." My voice was so soft I could barely hear it.

"I can't help it." he whispered.

"Yes you can."

He shook his head slightly. "I can't think of anything else but you."

God I couldn't do this. I wanted to so badly but I just couldn't.

I shook my head slightly. "Potter . . . " my voice was pleading. "You don't understand."

"I do. I understand perfectly. I'm falling in love with you."

My heart speeded up. "No you're not."

He laughed slightly and raised his eyebrows slightly. 'You sure about that?'

"Yes." I answered with complete certainty.

He faltered. "Damn, I was kinda hoping you would say no."

"Listen." I said firmly. "Can you honestly tell me that before you found out about this whole other world thing you would have even entertained the idea that we could be a couple? You couldn't even spend five minutes in a room without attacking me!"

"That was before I knew you." he protested.

"You don't know me!" I exclaimed.

"Yes I do."

"No you – " I broke off, not wanting to yet into a 'yes I do/no you don't' argument at a time like this. "Harry." I said calmly. "You're not even gay."

He smiled. "I'm not?"

"No." there was less certainty in my voice than I would have liked.

"Really? Then would you like the explain how I find you more attractive anyone I've ever known before? That when you chew your bottom lip I get so turned on I have to think about Snape naked so that you won't be able to tell. That when you move your hair out the way I wish that your hands were on me; touching me, tormenting me, teasing me. That when I look in your eyes all I can think about is having them caress my body; only for me and no-one else. That when you pout I want to kiss you until you can't even remember your own name and all you can do is cry my name when I touch you. Would you like to explain that Draco?"

I tried to speak but my mouth was too dry for me to form an answer and I stared at him dumbly.

His fingertips gently brushed my cheek, sending spirals of electricity deep within me.

"You're so amazing." he whispered, moving closer.

"What are you doing?" I asked warily, finally finding the ability to speak..

He didn't answer; just stared at me dreamily. So dreamily in fact that I was considering backing away. Knowing that whatever this was it shouldn't be happening. Knowing that anything between us was doomed before it even began.

And then he kissed me.

And I ceased to know anything except that.

His lips parted immediately, practically begging my tongue to enter. And before I could stop myself it did, caressing his softly. His tongue entwined with mine erotically and the accompanying flood of images caused blood to rush to my groin.

He manoeuvred himself closer to me, wrapping his arms around my neck and kissing me with a desperation that I could not have predicted. I could hear nothing but our erratic breathing, the soft wet noises as our lips parted and touched again and muffled moans deep in his throat so hot that I almost lost control.

_No. We shouldn't be doing this. At all. Let alone here, now where everyone could – _

The push of his hips against mine cut off any protests my mind had and I groaned. I could feel his lips curve into a smile and I bit his lower lip gently, feeling the shudder run through his body.

So hot. So fucking hot.

Somehow we'd found our way over to my bed and we collapsed on it, his fingers tracing patterns over the skin at the base of my shirt. I almost cried out with pleasure but his lips crushed against mine once again, silencing any noise I might have made. I rolled him over so that his back was pushed into the bed, straddling him, my fingers instinctually. scrabbling to undo his buttons.

I could feel him hard and throbbing beneath me and involuntarily I thrust against him, whimpers escaping both of our throats.

And then I heard something else; something other than the two of us.

A voice from my dreams. A voice that tormented me every night. A voice I could not ignore.

_**We're all slaves to love Dray. Mine killed me. And it'll kill him too.**_

I jerked away, my heart beating in my throat. Dizzy and disorientated I stumbled backwards, trying to put enough distance between us so that I could think.

"What's wrong?" he asked, sitting up on my bed; cheeks flushed, eyes glazed, lips puffy.

"Don't do that again?" I growled, my fingers flying to my lips.

He looked like somebody had hit him. "I-I'm sorry." he stuttered. "I thought that you – "

"You thought wrong." I snapped.

Except you didn't.

_No! No! You did think wrong. You did. It's just I want you so much and – _

"I didn't mean to – I didn't – I wasn't . . . " there was a hint of devastation in his eyes and I felt a responding lurch of guilt.

But surely better to hurt him now than for him to end up dead.

Right??

"I think you should go Harry." I said softly, moving away from him and opening the door.

I felt his eyes on me for what seemed like the longest amount of time conceivable before he moved past me, out of the door without saying a word.

I shut the door behind him, collapsing against it with a thud.

I was doing the right thing.

Wasn't I?

* * *

Please please please review!

Cherrycola69


	14. Chapter 14

Ok. I've replied to everybody's reviews (I hope - If not then sorry!) so try and find yours if you reviewed.

Rowenna – what can I say? I suck at doing the right thing. I always get there eventually, but it takes some time. Thanks for reviewing!

Midnightprowler – I kinda wanted them to be together for a little while. But sadly not. Don't worry though. I'm into happy endings. Sort of. ;) Thanks for reviewing!

Sak – I'm glad you like it. I have a feeling Harry will be haunting Draco for a while longer yet. Thanks for reviewing!

Sarang – I'm from England. Where are you from? No-one really gets a great deal in this fic – everyone's pretty miserable. Thanks for reviewing! 

Spunky slitherin – cookies are a good thing. I am open for cookies. I liked the kiss too. I read it and was kind of like 'whoa' (a reaction I normally don't have to my writing.) Thanks for reviewing!

Draco-Is-A-God – Tissue? Thanks for reviewing!

Blahness Mucho – I don't think Harry's very experienced on acting on this particular type of feelings. I'm sure he'll learn in time. Thanks for reviewing!

Darkishalloy – I did that cuz this way the story gets to last longer. That's a good thing right? Thanks for reviewing!

Brenna8 – Well yes I could scare Draco by making him think Harry died but I feel it could be a little harsh. I could be wrong though. I'll bear it in mind. Thanks for reviewing!

Alora – I did actually consider giving you a really really really mean cliffhanger at the end of this chapter but then I figured that would be mean. So see –I'm a nice author really. Thanks for reviewing!

Reflectivelvet – Lol. Sorry. I can't help but laugh at your trauma. I'm a bit sadistic like that. Draco may have bad judgement but he makes decisions anyway. Thanks for reviewing!

Spamy - screws up face umm I'm not sure whether they get together **soon** but like you say – drama is a good thing. Thanks for reviewing!

Kuroneko89 – Yay!! Someone who agrees with Draco!! I agree with him too (but don't tell anyone else cuz I think they might attack me). Damn they can read this too. Oh well. Thanks for reviewing!

Nick-The-Evil – Aww. Melts. You're so sweet. (Oh dear this is going to turn into a 'no you're so sweet' 'no you are' 'no you are!' match isn't it – very reminiscent of the 'you hang up' phenomenon that I laugh at. Good thing you can't hang up on the internet. Maybe it'll be a 'no you disconnet' 'no you'. Ok I'm rambling now. About things that haven't even happened and won't actually happen. Geez . . . I'm such a geek). I'm really glad you liked it. Really really glad. Thanks for reviewing and please keep reviewing.

Wintermoon2 – I think this chapter continues in much the same fashion. So you might like this too. Thanks for reviewing!

Master-shake13 – you seem to be going with majority on that one. I'm sure they'll get together again though (and I should know). Thanks for reviewing!

Uples – I'm glad you enjoyed it. Draco is very much going to be having internal battles constantly, so that should be entertaining. Thanks for reviewing.

Robin the bird – yeah it was quite sad. Angst is evil and yet quite entertaining. Thanks for reviewing!

Iven Artemis Draconis – Glad you're enjoying the fic. Just keep reading. Thanks for reviewing.

Servant of dragon and lion – Yeah I liked that bit too. It was hot wasn't it? Lol. Hope you like this chapter. Thanks for reviewing.

Shadowquirk – ah no! You have to read Draco POV fanfic – they're sooo fun! He's cool when you give him a chance! Thanks for reviewing!

Alora – see I updated!!

And a huge THANKYOU!!! to my beta reader **secretly obsessed**. You're great!!

Without further delay . . . here it is!!

* * *

**Harry POV**

"Gyah!" I threw my hands up.

Hermione and Ron exchanged looks.

"I mean . . . gyah!"

I paced up and down the room in irritation.

"What kind of person would do that? What kind of person would stand there whilst you confess your love to them, start kissing you in a way that probably should be illegal and then tell you to go. Leaving me . . . " I gestured towards my general lower area (there are some things I will not say in front of Mione).

Ron snickered, obviously understanding.

"Leaving you what?" Hermione asked innocently.

Ron snickered again.

I shot Hermione a suspicious look, trying to determine whether the

innocence was genuine or not.

"You know." I said vaguely.

"No."

"Yes you do."

"No I don't." she repeated patiently.

I struggled for words. "Leaving me with a problem."

"He seems to have left you with many problems."

Was she for real??

"I think what Harry is trying to say," Ron broke in, "is that Malfoy . . . " he trailed off, glancing at Hermione's face. "Geez it **is** impossible to tell you about these kind of things."

"Will someone just tell me what's going on?" Hermione snapped.

"Uh. Sure." I tried again. "Draco is very attractive. I am attracted to Draco. I got very . . . attracted to Draco whilst we were making out and was unable to deal with this attraction as he stopped me from making out with him."

Even Ron looked confused now.

"Uhmm . . . " I frowned.

"Wait," Hermione's face lit up, "you mean making out with Draco really turned you on and you got hard without anyone to help shag the excitement right out of you."

Ron and I both looked at her, stunned.

"Something like that." I agreed.

She smirked, evilly.

"That was mean." I glared at her, the realisation finally dawning that her innocent confusion had most definitely not been genuine.

"What can I say? I've been spending too much time with Draco."

"You know there was actually something very wrong with hearing all that come out of your mouth." Ron commented.

"I try." Hermione grinned.

"Can we focus on my pain here?" I whined.

"Sorry."

Obediently, they turned back to me.

"I just don't understand where I am with him! One minute we're on the bed and he's undoing clothing – "

"Too much information. Too much information." Ron chanted.

"– And the next thing I know he's telling me that I was wrong in thinking he wanted me! Why can't he just make his mind up?? He's driving me mad!"

"Draco's going through a rough time Harry." Hermione began a lecture.

"I know, and because **he's** going through a rough time **I'm** going through a rough time and that just totally sucks."

"I thought it was the lack of sucking that was your problem," Ron noted mischievously.

"Ron!" Hermione and I snapped simultaneously.

He rolled his eyes. "I think we're all old enough to understand that the word 'suck' has more than one meaning. I also think we're old enough to use both contexts of that word."

"That might be true," Hermione remarked in her 'Professor McGonogall-like responsible' tone, "but we are also old enough to know that we do not need to interpret 'suck' in a totally innocent context in the 'suck' of the totally dirty way; especially when our friend is in a time of – Ronald why are you laughing?"

She really was going to turn into a Professor one day.

Ron looked at her in the midst of helpless giggling, "you said suck more times than I can handle!"

"Oh honestly!" Hermione huffed.

"You know what," I said suddenly. "I think I'm going to go to bed."

"Harry no. Ron was about to shut up and listen to you weren't you Ronald?"

Ron nodded fairly convincingly, but his eyes threatened that he was about to start laughing again.

"It's ok. I think I better get some sleep."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Things might suck less in the morning."

That was it. The tenuous control Ron had on his amusement broke, leaving him roaring in laughter. The combined sound of that and Hermione's annoyed lecturing followed me up the stairs.

I collapsed on the bed, burying my face in my pillow. Grrrr.

_Just don't think about it Harry. Think about something other than Draco. Think about . . . uhmm . . . DADA homework. Yep think about really scary things before you go to sleep so then you'll have nightmares and not dreams about Draco. Damn it you're thinking about it again. _

There was the sound of something scratching.

I froze.

Something brushed my face. Something was there. Something was –

A hoot.

Hedwig.

Heart beating fast, I collapsed back onto the bed for a second, trying to calm down. Geez, talk about scaring a guy.

Trying not to glare too much at my owl I grabbed the letter and opened it, finding it to be from Sirius.

Shit.

The colour drained from my face as I remembered writing a letter in one of my more upset moments telling him all about Draco, the whole 'gay' thing and my desperate need for relationship advice.

Why didn't I wait until I'd calmed down a little before sending these letters?

Now I'd accidentally come out to my godfather.

I gathered my courage and scanned the words.

_Harry. _

_Uhh . . . Hi. _

_I don't really know what to say. _

_I'm not angry. Please don't think that even for a second because I honestly am not in the slightest. _

_I just want to talk to you about all this, face to face. _

_Meet me in Dumbledore's office tonight or before breakfast if you don't get this letter before morning. _

_Snuffles _

Well I hadn't been able to sleep anyway.

* * *

"So, Draco Malfoy huh?"

I looked at the floor, sheepishly rubbing the back of my neck. "Yeah."

Sirius grinned at me. "It's good to see you kid."

"You too."

"So . . . uhmm . . . how long have you two been...?"

"Oh, no. We're not," I flushed, "together."

"Oh?" he raised an eyebrow. "I thought from your letter that – "

"Things . . . are complicated." I thought about it. "Very complicated."

"Want to tell me about it?"

"Yes! I just don't know where to begin."

"Well why don't you tell me exactly what it was that prompted you to write a letter to me telling me you were gay and asking for relationship advice."

"You sound like a therapist."

"And you sound like you're avoiding the topic. Tell me."

I sighed. "I'm crazy about him. I really am. I lied to myself for a long time but I've fallen for him. He's the most amazing person I've ever met and he's so . . . beautiful. And I know that if he would just give me a chance then we could be perfect together."

Sirius' eyebrows shot up in surprise. "**He's** the one turning **you** down?"

"Yes."

"I really didn't see that one coming. I mean after what he did – " he shot a quick look at me, "you do know what he did right?" he continued at my nod,

"I really would have thought that he'd just be relieved to be with you."

"You would think so wouldn't you?? But no, there we were, having a perfectly wonderful time and then he jumps off the bed like I burned him – "

He blinked. "The bed?"

"Uhh . . . yeah. That's not as bad as it sounds," I thought back to the occasion, "err yeah."

Sirius didn't look convinced but then seemed more puzzled than anything else. "Was this before or after he told you that you couldn't be together?"

"This was after I'd told him that I was in love with him," I corrected.

"You told him you were in love with him?"

"Yeah. Seducing him really wasn't working so I thought I should just be truthful and tell him how I feel."

"Seducing him?" Sirius' eyes widened.

Ok this really wasn't going well.

"Yeah" I answered hesitantly, wondering how to put this.

"So had he already told you you couldn't be together when you did whatever it was you did on his bed?"

"Yes. Well . . . no." I amended, pulling a face.

"I left my Harry-Standard English dictionary at home. Could you translate for me?"

"Well he never actually told me. He told Hermione."

He frowned. "This is confusing."

"Tell me about it." I muttered.

"So Malfoy told Hermione that you and he couldn't be together. She told you. You told Malfoy you loved him. You started making out on the bed and then he kicked you out and said you had to leave."

I nodded. "That's the last two days, yes."

He paled. "The last two days?"

Ok there was no way I could explain everything in one night – maybe not ever.

"The bottom line is that I'm in love with him and I don't know what to do. I can't just walk away from this but everything's so confusing. I can't figure out what it is he wants from me or how he feels. I'm going mad and I really need your help."

"Look, Harry." Sirius paused thoughtfully, "I think you should ignore what he said to you last night. He's in love with you. I mean I watched all his memories and I am totally and utterly convinced of that fact. He loves you."

"Then why did he say it?" I snapped. "Why the fuck would he tell me that I'd thought wrong and had to leave?"

"Because he's scared of losing you" he answered simply.

"Your logic must work in the same twisted way his does because I do not understand you at all!" I shouted in frustration.

"Harry listen, Draco went through a lot of shit in that spell that you cannot even imagine. It's left him with some pretty messed up ideas about what he should and should not do. He thinks that by pushing you away he's protecting you. He thinks that this is the only way to save you."

"I just want to be with him!" I exclaimed. "I don't care what happens anymore."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, looking uncannily like Draco for a moment. "I believe it was that type of thinking that got everyone into this whole other reality mess in the first place."

"It's not fair." I muttered, folding my arms. "Why does he get to do it the easy way whereas I have to do it the practical, difficult, painful way?"

"Because when you fix this mess you'll have the real thing whereas he got the substitute."

Good answer.

"Thanks Siri." I hugged him briefly; "you helped a lot."

"No problem," he said wryly. "Just next time try not to worry me too much with talk of beds."

I grinned. "I'll try."

"And don't give up so easily.

"I won't." I promised, turning to leave.

I paused at the door, running through the conversation in my mind.

"Siri?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you just approve my choice of boyfriend?"

"Uhmm." he hedged.

I stepped closer. "Did you just approve _Draco Malfoy_?"

The whole 'son of one of Voldemort's most faithful followers, pureblood, dark magic family, my biggest rival' thing was implied – I thought maybe it would be wrong to actually come out and say it."

His eyebrow twitched. "Maybe."

"And didn't you say back there that he really loved me and you trusted him."

He scowled. "Perhaps."

I looked at him. "Who are you and what have you done with Sirius Black?"

"Huh." he grunted. "Well he's a good looking kid, he's rich, he's his own person not his family as shown by the choices he's made, he didn't sleep with you when you presumably were quite willing, I trust your judgement and I'm related to him. What else exactly should I be looking for in someone to date you?"

"I'm stunned." I remarked truthfully.

"Why? Is there some reason I **shouldn't** trust him?"

"No." I said hastily. "None."

He smiled. "Good."

"Well done on the inspirational speech by the way," I commented, "it was very . . . inspirational."

"It's what I'm here for."

And as I walked back to my dorm I couldn't help but hope that inspiration was going to be enough.

* * *

**Draco POV**

There was a very uncomfortable feel in denying yourself everything you ever wanted: that was a fact that I knew now with certainty. Uncomfortable in every way: for me, for Harry and for those times we spent with each other in uneasy silence, neither of us speaking because neither of us knew what to say. Because we were afraid what we _would_ say.

Silence made things easier to ignore, made it easier to completely deny that anything of any importance had happened between us. Talking with Harry was a reasonably recent novelty that I had experienced being without; it felt terrible but it was nothing I hadn't felt before. Therefore it wasn't that hard to delude myself that everything was still ok between us.

But there were times when I knew without a doubt that everything had changed. When I looked at him. Because in his eyes was a longing that reverberated through me.

And in the end I avoided looking at him because it hurt. And it made me suddenly unsure in my decision.

My fingernails dug into my palms: he was doing it again.

"Please don't look at me like that." I said tiredly.

"Like what?" his expression didn't change.

Like what? Like what? How could he look at me like that and not know what he was doing?

"Like that." I returned, gesturing to his face helplessly. "Like – " I stopped, realising that none of the things I wanted to say were on my top-ten-list of things to talk to him about.

"Like the person I'm in love with rejected me?" he offered. "Like it's killing me to be this close to you and not touch you?"

"Harry." I said warningly.

He moved closer, his eyes deepening with a pain I understood far too well.

"Like I can't sleep, can't concentrate on anything other than you? Like I dream about you whether I'm awake or not? Like I'm thinking about kissing you right now? Like I'm imagining what it would be like to touch you without you pushing me away? Like that Draco?"

"Yes." I replied shortly. "Like that."

"I can't help it," he said simply.

"Yes you can."

"You used to look at me like that," he retorted.

I slammed my pot of ink down on the desk. "Potter if you expect me to believe that I used to look at you in that way continuously for three days then you're obviously deranged. Perhaps I occasionally looked at you like that but not all the fucking time."

And out it all came. All the frustration and anger and emotions we had been keeping bottled inside of us.

"Well maybe not all of us are as strong as you are. Maybe some of us have a little more to worry about than trying to make sure the person we're in love with doesn't know how we feel."

"Fuck you Potter! How dare you sit there and act like you're the only person in the world who has anything to worry about? Do you really think that my feelings towards you are the most important things in my life? Do you think that I'm not as fucking scared as you are?"

"You aren't the one Voldemort's trying to kill."

I snorted derisively. "No. I'm just the one who became a Death Eater to spy for Dumbledore so that I can protect you. I'm the one that has to live in fear of being found out. Don't sit there telling me that I'm stupid for hiding how I feel because if I don't then we're both dead Potter. Voldemort will kill me and then kill you because right now I seem to be the only person concerned with keeping you alive – you don't seem to give a damn whether you live or die."

"That's not true."

"No? When was the last time you thought about Voldemort, huh? When was the last time you remembered that you have to fight him? Because it seems to me that the only time Voldemort even crosses your mind is when you're trying to guilt-trip me."

"I can't give you up Draco. Even if Dumbledore himself told me I had to. Even if Voldemort told me he would stop trying to kill me if I did. You mean more to me than any of that and I would do anything – anything to be with you."

And that brought me to a halt. What could you say in reply to a statement like that?

He walked over to me hesitantly, his eyes meeting mine.

"Harry," I murmured uncertainly, a frown marring my features.

His hands cupped my cheeks, sliding backwards until they became tangled in my hair. His eyes were dilated and a breathless noise of longing escaped my lips at being that close to him.

I hated that he had this effect on me. He was the only person who could have any sort of effect on me.

With the memory of our last kiss still burning in my memory, still tingling on my lips it was hard to resist the invitation in his eyes. It was hard to resist the way his lips parted alluringly. It was hard to resist the hesitant way he traced the exposed skin on my arm. It was hard to resist him.

It was so hard to resist, in fact, that it seemed perfectly natural to lean over towards him, pressing his body against my own, to close my eyes and tilt my head back.

"Draco" he whispered in a hitching tone of desperation before our lips met in a desperate kiss.

Shit.

I pulled away as soon as I felt the electricity flowing through my veins.

"I can't – " I muttered. "I just can't."

"Ok." he said resignedly. "It's ok."

"I'm sorry." I whispered, hating myself for leading him on. "I didn't mean to–"

"Its alright." he replied softly. "I understand."

I looked at him hopelessly.

How could he understand?

I barely understood.

I sighed, wishing I could just wipe away the memory of everything that had transpired between us, wishing that life could be easy.

"Why?" he asked suddenly.

I frowned, looking at him to expand.

"I **don't** understand. I take it all back. I don't understand why we can't be together and you are going to tell me whether you like it or not."

I looked at the floor. "Harry . . . "

"No." Determination lit up his eyes. "I'm not made of glass. I want to know and you're going to tell me."

My mouth opened and closed as I searched for the words. "I'm trying to protect you Harry."

"From what? You?"

"No. From what will happen."

"Bollocks," he told me calmly. "That's not why. It's because you're afraid."

"Afraid of what?" I scoffed, not wanting to let him know how close to the mark his words had hit.

He tilted his head slightly. "You tell me."

And perhaps it was that look in his eyes that hopeful, challenging look that lit his face up, that made me snap. Made me tell him the things I had never meant him to know.

"Are you **trying** to screw your life up?" I exclaimed. "Being with me isn't what you think it is. I'll mess you up."

"I'm pretty messed up already," he said dismissively.

"It'll kill you." I snapped.

"Everyone dies."

"Not when they're sixteen they don't!"

"My life expectancy isn't that much longer than sixteen anyway."

"That's precisely the fucking thing I'm trying to change! Why can't you understand that?!"

"And how exactly are you planning to do that huh? By taking away everything I'm fighting for?"

"No! Harry stop it. You know I'm just trying to protect you."

"Yeah. And you're doing a pretty shitty job of it," he looked at the floor, "all you ever seem to do is hurt me."

"I'd hurt you more if we were together."

He stepped forward. "You're hurting me more now than you ever could by loving me."

"Harry." I said softly, pleadingly. "Please don't do this."

"I love you."

"You love the idea of me, not who I really am. You love the idea of love, of someone who loves you enough to change time for you. Not me."

He shook his head slowly, incredulous laughter emerging from his lips. "You don't get it do you?"

"Get what?" I asked tiredly.

"You think it's because of what house I was in or whether I was friends with you from day one, but it's not. Loving you isn't a result of what my life's been like, it's because of who I am. And you can't change that no matter what world you put me in. I will always fall in love with you. You can't stop that."

"You don't know what happened. You have no idea."

He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I'm aware of that. I'm aware of that every second of every day but that is not a reason. You have no idea what I've been thinking. There have been times when I've just thought; fuck it. I'll do the same spell Draco did. At least then I'll have some experience of being with the person I'm in love with – because it doesn't seem like it's going to happen here anytime soon. And even if the other reality didn't work out that would be ok because then I'd have something in common with you. Because then we could both be fucked up about things the other person doesn't understand" he paused, looking at me sadly. "I love you. That's all I need to know."

I closed my eyes briefly, unable to think logically whilst I could see the pain in his eyes.

"Please Draco" he whispered, touching my cheek fleetingly, gently, as though I could break.

He was so close. Too close. So close I couldn't think. Couldn't remember the reasons why this was a bad idea.

"Please just let me be with you," there was a raw look of pain in his eyes, a desperate longing. "Please." he whispered.

I took a deep breath, trying to make sense out of the turmoil of emotion within me.

"Harry," I said haltingly. "You know – you know that we can't. We can't do this. We can't be together. I'm sorry – I – I'm really sorry but I – I just – can't – I can't." To my horror I realised I was crying, barely able to talk through the tears. "I can't do this – I can't be around you."

His eyes had softened and held a note of grief. "Draco." he stepped forward,

raising his hand to wipe away my tears.

I stepped back. "No. No, Harry, don't. I know – I know you think you love me – but – but you don't. What you're feeling, it isn't love." I bit back the sob that tore up my throat. "It isn't. It's – it's" what was it? Infatuation? Desire? Longing? A crush? Lust? All of them? "it's not what you think it is. And I can't be around you. You're trying to make me be with you but you have no conception of what love actually is. You just woke up one morning and decided you were in love with me and you still believe that because everyone keeps agreeing with you. I can't agree with you because you're wrong. I'm sorry – please – please don't hate me. I can't be with you. I just can't. I can't."

I darted a glance at him, at the boy I'd just crushed. One last glance. "I'm sorry." I whispered one last time, before I turned and walked away.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Now review! Review! Review!

Cherry


	15. Chapter 15

Hey everybody! Here's the next chapter. Sorry it's taken so long but I've had loads of things going on in my life.

Many thanks to my Beta Reader Secretly Obsessed who points out those really stupid mistakes I make. Thanks!!!

But first – a few replies to reviews.

Midnightprowler – aww thanks. I'm in the process of writing a book and will definitely let you know if it ever gets published! Thanks for reviewing! 

Ivin Artemis Draconis – Don't worry, Draco's gonna get bored of pushing Harry away (possibly even in this chapter) Thanks for reviewing!

Reflectivelvet – Draco's not being a jerk. He's just . . . confused. He knows all the shit that could happen if they get together and he's a Slytherin, hence wary of going ahead with potentially dangerous situation. Thanks for reviewing!

Brenna8 – Sensible advice. Only trouble is . . . Harry's not exactly sensible. Thanks for reviewing!

Social Twist – Thanks! Sorry it took so long for this chapter. Thanks for reviewing!

Alora – Gosh everyone's really into blaming Draco aren't they?? It's not his fault he's scared. He's just trying to do what's right and misjudging it totally. But I'm sure he won't give up on Harry. Thanks for reviewing!

Robin the Bird – I don't think anything's ever good in the world of Harry Potter. Voldemort's always there. But the real question is will Draco? Thanks for reviewing!

Coetzee b – They're not playing games exactly. It's more warring between what they want and what they know they should do. Nobody's brilliant when it comes to denying yourself the one thing you want. But they may make up their minds soon. Thanks for reviewing!

BlahnessMucho – Don't worry too much about Harry – he can take care of himself. As you will see in this chapter. Thanks for reviewing!

Spamy – Don't hurt me. I have no control over the characters – it's not up to me! Can't deny the whole being evil thing though. Hope this chapter will cheer you up a little. Thanks for reviewing!

HironiKoshinha – I'm really glad you like the fic so much. I'm sure the fic won't make you cry again for a while. Possibly. Thanks for reviewing!

Draco-Is-A-God – sorry for making you cry. It wasn't purposeful – not specifically to you anyway. Thanks for reviewing!

ShadowQuirk – I think you should go with the half of you that says not to kill me. The other half is a bad evil half which you should ignore. Thanks for reviewing!

Mydogisfudge – Thanks. I'm sure everything will straighten itself out – I don't like sad endings. Thanks for reviewing!

Frogslayr – Aha! They aren't stuck though! All it takes is a little – damn I almost told you what happens. I like the twisty knife relationship too. That's probably bad of me but I do! I especially love tormenting Harry until I start feeling sorry for him (it generally takes a while.) Thanks for reviewing!

Broken-angel-gurl – Draco doesn't know that Harry really loves him. In fact its questionable as to whether he really does or not. Thanks for reviewing!

Kuroneko89 – Harry might take your advice but it may not end up the way you think it might. Thanks for reviewing!

Tinkering – I don't think you guessed (quite) what's going to happen so why don't you wait and see. Thanks for reviewing (keep doing it)!

LittleProngsie – ahh don't worry. It'll end up ok. I hate sad endings! Thanks for reviewing!

PlatoDan – I like the ups and downs. They will continue in an entertaining fashion, don't worry. Thanks for reviewing!

Amz381 – Don't worry, I'll keep writing it. Thanks for reviewing!

Iceprincesshime – Ron and Hermione may have a cupid intervene but you'll have to wait and find out. Thanks for reviewing!

Fearuin – The R rated scenes will arrive. As you will find out. Angst will always remain in some form until the end of the story though. Thanks for reviewing!

m1l4bd3m3n73d – I think I **did** make you wait too long for this chapter but it's here now! Thanks for reviewing!

Nick-the-Evil – Ah damn it. You've gone and melted me all over again. But if you're going to do the whole drowning me in roses then of course I'm going to melt. Well I'm glad I've turned you into a Cherrycola69-obsessed monster – it's at least **some** kind of payback. I'm also amazed you read the entire thing all over again. I can never be bothered doing that. It makes me smile that you did. Thanks for reviewing!

Kalystia – I'm glad you don't think it's OOC. I've always been a bit worried about that. Thanks for reviewing!

CJAndre – I'll work on the whole Death Eater duties bit. It's just not something that's very prominent in Draco's mind but I'll work on it. Thanks for reviewing!

MorbidlyDisturbed – Draco really doesn't think that Harry loves him. He thinks that Harry is just infatuated . . . which I'm not necessarily denying. Uhmm . . . what exactly do you mean by 'airy'? Just curious. Thanks for reviewing!

Uples – I like making Harry suffer. But even I'm starting to feel a little bit sorry for him. I might torture him a little longer or I might now. Damn even I can't decide. Thanks for reviewing!

Thedragon­­servant – But maybe it's Harry giving up on Draco that changes things . . . Thanks for reviewing!

Alz-chan – I'm glad you're liking it. Here's some more for you to read. Thanks for reviewing!

Miss sheree – Ah . . . Ron always had some wittiness deep down. I just thought I should dig it up. And Harry's learning from the best after all – you'd hope he had wit after spending so much time with Draco. Thanks for reviewing!

SilverSerpent – Harry called Draco a fag cuz he was in the middle of trying to deny his sexuality. He displaced all his confusion onto Draco and got mad at him. It was confusing **because** he was confused. Draco and Hermione's friendship **is** sweet. It wasn't really intended to happen but it somehow just appeared one day. I'm really glad you're enjoying it so much. Thanks for reviewing!

Ganymade – I can't call you a sadist – it would be hypocritical of me. I am after all the person **putting** them through this pain. Thanks for reviewing!

Innocence – doesn't – pay – I normally dislike Ron in fics and ignore him in my own but I'm quite enjoying him in this fic. Hermione's great too – I'm glad you agree. Sorry I made you cry. Thanks for reviewing!

* * *

**Harry POV**

I slammed my goblet down on the table with a sharp bang. Several nearby Gryffindors jumped at the sound, and Ron and Hermione exchanged worried glances.

"Stupid Slytherins." I growled, sending a glare across to the table in question.

"Uhhh . . . Harry," Ron began cautiously. "Not that I'm not really glad that you've returning to you're Slytherin hating ways but . . . are you ok?"

"Oh I'm just fine." I enthused bitterly. "In fact I'm so great that I feel like I should stand on the table and dance for pure joy."

"Right." Ron said, obviously considering how best to respond to that. "I see."

"The thing is Harry," Hermione chirped, "you're not behaving in the most . . . " she searched for the word, " . . . normal of ways."

"Normal?" I echoed, leaning back in my chair thoughtfully. "Well let's see. I'm probably going to die before I'm 18, my parents are dead, I have a 5 rolls of parchment long essay to write for Potions which I haven't started and my heart just got torn to pieces by the person who used to be my biggest rival." I mused on it for a moment. "I'd say I'm behaving perfectly normally."

"Right you are mate." Ron agreed hastily. "Bring on the Slytherin hating, that's what I say:"

"Good." I commented, attacking my steak with the sharpest knife I could find.

"Are you sure you're not just displacing all your pain from what Draco did onto Slytherins in general?" Hermione asked cautiously.

I put down my cutlery. "We're still calling him Draco?" I asked incredulously.

"Uhhmm. **I **was." Hermione answered uncertainly.

"No wonder Gryffindors aren't noted for their loyalty." I said sulkily, returning to my food.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ron sent her an annoyed look. "That was all you could think of to say to him?" he hissed.

Hermione shrugged helplessly. "It was either that or shouting at him for not starting his Potions essay."

Ron shook his head in bewilderment. "What planet do you come from?? Look, Harry," he turned back to me. "Just ignore Malfoy. If he doesn't want you then he's obviously stupid. You're a great guy and he'd be lucky to have you."

I noticed a few of the closer, first year, Gryffindors staring at me, having overheard Ron's words.

"What are you looking at?" I snapped.

They scattered.

"Harry." Hermione scolded.

"What?"

"Can you try and limit the extent of your anger to those who actually in some way deserve it?"

"They **did** deserve it." I insisted stubbornly.

"Why?" Hermione challenged. "What did they do? Breathe?"

"No they – " I paused halfway through my furious retort, letting out a large sigh.

"You're right."

"I know." Hermione agreed, grinning when I looked at her in disbelief.

"I've been being so awful." I exclaimed, banging my head against the table.

"Don't do that," Hermione said concernedly. "You need all the brain cells you have."

"What is this? Pick on Harry day?"

"No that was last week. You were too depressed for us to take full advantage of it so we're making up for lost opportunity." she smirked at me.

Ron sent her a look as though she'd gone insane. "You've been spending too much time with Malfoy."

I winced at the name.

"Sorry." Ron said hurriedly.

"It's ok." I gave him a forced smile. "Don't worry about it."

There was an awkward pause in which I poked my carrots with the tip of my fork.

"You know," Hermione said suddenly, "he's not **that** attractive."

"No." Ron agreed. "And he's got that silly poncy hair."

"I quite like his hair." Hermione protested. Ron elbowed her. "Uhmm…I mean it's definitely ridiculous. Even girls don't spend that long on their hair."

"He's probably not even a natural blonde." Ron scoffed. "It looks like it's dyed to me."

"Then there's the fact that he's so sarcastic. After all, Harry, you probably wouldn't be able to tell whether he was serious or not half the time."

"Hey!" I exclaimed, recognising that as an insult.

Hermione waved my protest away with her hand.

"And he's the son of a Death Eater." Ron continued. "He must have inherited some kind of violent tendencies."

"And he's an aristocrat." Hermione stated. "That means he's bound to be a complete snob and will look down on you for all those really crap things you like."

"Plus . . . he likes Potions." Ron commented. "Definite character flaw – just look at Snape! You wouldn't want to end up with another Snape would you?"

"I'm sure he wouldn't." Snape's sneering voice cut in.

We all jumped three feet from our seats.

"Professor," Ron exclaimed, flushing a deep red in embarrassment. "I didn't know you were there."

"Evidently." Snape scowled at us. "I think it would be beyond even your stupidity Mr Weasley to knowingly say that in front of me. As it is, 10 points from Gryffindor for suggesting Mr Potter is too good to be associated with a Snape, as sickening as the thought is."

Hermione pasted a smile on her face. "Was there something you wanted Professor?"

"Yes. There was. In case you haven't noticed, you three are the only people left in the Hall. As I cannot leave you unsupervised, it would be in your best interests to finish your food **now** and return to the Gryffindor tower." He turned his hawk-like gaze to me. "Unless of course Mr Potter, you have any propositions of marriage to make."

We were out of the Great Hall quicker than Ron could scream "the images, the images!"

* * *

It was 2 o clock in the morning and I was sitting contemplating life, death and Draco Malfoy: a situation I was getting more and more used to. 

I hadn't been able to sleep since the night he'd told me he didn't want anything to do with me. I was exhausted but insomnia was better than dreaming about him rejecting me, over and over again, as seemed to be the case when I actually did manage to sleep.

Nowadays of course . . . sleep was getting further and further away. Even my Potions essay wasn't boring enough to send me to sleep. I had been getting very good at amusing myself with very little.

Absently I flicked the Marauder's Map open; my latest distraction – it was fun (relatively speaking) to see who was awake and who was in the same situation as me (although I'm not sure how many people in this castle were shagging their same sex ex-enemy).

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good." I declared.

Instantly the map materialized on the parchment. I stared at it sadly. It was times like now, when I was miserable, that the map served as a reminder of what Voldemort had done to my life.

Let me demonstrate the way I was looking at it – I was looking at the map my father had made (murdered by Voldemort) to track down the guy I was in love with (who broke my heart because he didn't **want** to be murdered by Voldemort).

Great. Wasn't life just fantastic??

I sighed gloomily.

Oh if my father could see me now, using his creation to spy on my ex-almost-boyfriend. Wouldn't he be proud?

Yeah not likely.

I sighed. This was stupid and stalkerish. Even as I decided this, my eyes were roaming the map for his name.

"That's odd." I murmured, frowning as I leant closer to the map.

He wasn't on it. At all. I sat back slightly, puzzled.

Where could he be?

No. That couldn't be right – he had to be there somewhere. He **had** to be.

With a fresh wave of determination I started from the right hand side of the map and combed it for his name. I probably just missed it the first time round.

Five minutes later I realised that Draco Malfoy actually wasn't anywhere to be found on the Hogwart's grounds.

But . . .

What was that?

I squinted slightly at the dark smudge at the left edge of the map. It looked like somebody was part **on** Hogwart's grounds and part **off**. This great deduction came from the fact that only part of the name was showing: foy.

Well that would be him then. But what was he doing all the way out there at this time of night?

Thousands of ideas ran through my head, and as I weighed each one up I kept an eye on the figure I took to be him.

Ten minutes later it/he still hadn't moved.

A sudden flare of worry shot through me. What if he was hurt? Dying?

I hesitated, looking at the door thoughtfully.

It wasn't like I was actually going to go **look** for him . . . I was just going to go for a small walk around that vicinity. And if I **happened** to stumble across him I might as well check what it is he's actually doing.

I wasn't stalking him or anything.

A sudden flash of panic struck me: would he **think** I was stalking him?

Well no. Because I'd just happen to go for this walk in my invisibility cloak and so he wouldn't even know I was there unless I wanted him to know. Which I didn't.

So yeah. That was ok.

I always knew that the Marauders Map was the best thing to entertain me at night.

* * *

"Oh my God." The exclamation escaped my lips before I could stop it. 

I'd officially never seen him looking worse. Slumped across the ground, his body was spasming slightly every few seconds. His lips were dry and cracked and his face was devoid of colour.

His brow furrowed slightly as he heard me. "Harry?" he whispered thickly, raising himself off the ground slightly.

I shook the cloak off, moving forward and kneeling by his side. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." he said obstinately, shoving his hair from his face as it fell in his eyes.

I winced as this displayed an array of bruises in every colour plastered across his face.

"You're not." I exclaimed, worry sharpening my tone. "What the fuck happened to you?"

I gently lifted him to his feet.

"Nothing." He insisted, staggering slightly as I released him.

Instantly I slid my arm around his waist and let him lean against me, supporting his weight. "Be careful." I instructed softly, my irritation fading at the feel of his warm body against mine.

"I don't need your help." he protested, jerking away from my touch.

There was a painful pang in my heart at his action and I attempted to mask it with anger. "Yes you bloody do! You can't even stand up by yourself."

"I'm perfectly qualified to take care of myself." he snapped, leaning against a tree even as he spoke.

"Sure." I said sarcastically. "You can take care of yourself. And that's why you look like this."

His mouth tightened. "If you want to know what happened all you have to do is ask."

"I did ask." I said simply. "You wouldn't tell me."

"I assumed that you had enough intelligence to work it out." He raised his eyebrows slightly. "Apparently not."

I passed his bitchiness off as being the result of pain (which may have been wishful thinking). "Voldemort?" I asked, suddenly alert.

"Who else?"

"Why didn't you tell me you were meeting with him tonight?" I asked with a frown.

"In case you haven't noticed," he drawled, "we haven't spoken for a week. You didn't seem to want to talk to me."

"You're the one who's been ignoring me." I retorted heatedly.

"You don't seem to want to listen to anything I want to say." He said meaningfully.

"I would have listened. I would have been there for you." my voice took on a tinge of desperation.

"Harry . . . that's the point. You **can't** be there for me."

"Fine." I felt a flare of anger. "You don't want me to be there for you? Then I'll leave."

"What?" he exclaimed, taken aback.

"Well you said it yourself – you don't need my help." I backed away slightly.

"So you're just going to leave me!?"

I looked at him one last time, so fucking furious that I could have exploded. "Yes."

I snarled, "you can fucking rot out here for all I care."

And I turned and walked away across the field with angry strides.

* * *

"How are you doing?" Hermione asked sympathetically the next morning, seeing my eyes dart over to the empty place at the Slytherin table for the twentieth time in the last three minutes. 

"Not so great."

"Really? Why?"

"Well . . . " I started with a deep breath, "last night Draco came back from seeing Voldemort battered black and blue and practically unconscious. And because I got mad at him I left him at the edge of the Forbidden Forest." I paused. "At the other end of the Quidditch pitch."

"Ah." She blinked, unsure of what to say in response to that.

"That's not like you." Ron commented, buttering his toast.

"No." I agreed. "It's not. And now I feel really, **really** guilty. I mean – I watched him walk back extremely slowly on the map . . . but I feel really bad. What kind of person leaves someone outside and tells them 'you can fucking rot out here for all I care'?"

"A Slytherin?" Hermione offered with a wry smile.

"Exactly." I said, scowling darkly. "I'm such a bastard sometimes."

"I wouldn't worry about it too much. At least there's the party tonight to distract you." Ron said cheerfully, helping himself to a piece of bacon.

I stared at him blankly. "Party?" I asked, wracking my memory for any mention of a party.

"Yeah. You know the party to 'boost morale'. The worst excuse for a party ever but hey – Dumbledore seems to like it."

"I don't remember Dumbledore ever mentioning a party." I mused.

"Well you were too wrapped up in a certain Slytherin to take notice of little things like parties." Ron told me. "Or if you heard about it then you were too busy **thinking** about a certain Slytherin to remember."

"I would have remembered a party to 'boost morale'." I protested. "Wouldn't I?"

"I can't think how you could have forgotten." Ron muttered.

"Well I think Harry's morale could do with boosting." Hermione stated decisively.

My head snapped up. "What?" I exclaimed. "I'm not going."

"Of course you are Harry." Hermione seemed astounded at the idea I wouldn't go.

"Why?"

"It'll cheer you up." Ron provided an answer.

"No. It'll depress me."

"Harry it's not healthy to spend so much time by yourself." Hermione adopted her

mother tone.

"I'm not by myself. You two are always with me."

"And tonight we'll be at the party so if you don't want to be alone," _which you won't_ her eyes seemed to imply, "You will be there too."

* * *

**Draco POV**

"Ridiculous idea," I muttered, "what kind of person holds a party to 'boost morale'. Stupid question really – Dumbledore. Let's face it – the man is one of a kind."

"Yes." Snape's lip curled. "I don't think the world could take more than one."

I smiled slightly and then winced as it moved my swollen cheek.

Snape handed me a pot of cream which I rubbed gently onto the bruise.

"Are you alright Draco?" he asked curtly, keeping his eyes down with obvious embarrassment at showing such concern.

"Yeah." I said flippantly. "I can handle pain. Plus – it isn't all bad – it gives me a reason not to go to this stupid party."

"Not go?" his eyebrows shot up and his tone sounded akin to that he used towards Gryffindors.

"Yes. Not go."

"You're going to that party."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"Why?"

"You are the most well known representative of the Slytherin house. At this time the presence of all houses must be felt if Voldemort is to be overcome."

"So it wasn't really about morale at all then – this party?"

He stared at me blankly, offering no answers.

That was an answer in itself. "Sneaky bastard." I said admiringly.

Dumbledore was a lot smarter than I gave him credit for.

"Indeed." Snape answered.

"But if that's what this party is for then I really shouldn't go." I said with a concerned frown. "if Voldemort were to find out"

He sighed. "Draco. Voldemort is not the reason you are or are not attending this party."

"Then what is?" I asked curiously.

"The Potter boy." He spoke the words as if it pained him.

"Oh. Him."

"The reason you don't want to go to that party is so you don't see him." He hypothesised.

"You don't know that." I said coolly.

"Yes I do. And I refuse to allow you to miss that party because of him. It's so un-Slytherin of you. You will go to that party and you will have a good time just to spite Mr Potter."

"I was the one who ended it with him." I told him.

He looked relieved. "Well that's something at least. I don't think I could have shown my face in the Great Hall for at least a month if it had been the other way around."

I sent him a look.

"But that's irrelevant." He continued smoothly. "Right now you are going to get ready for that party."

I hesitated.

"Draco." He said warningly. "You are going to go and put on your best and tightest clothes, flirt with some sickeningly attractive boy and look thoroughly unattainable and therefore drive Mr Potter insane."

I blinked. My godfather was just such a . . . Slytherin.

"Doesn't that sound like a good idea?"

I considered it, opening my mouth to say 'No'.

"Yes it does." He answered himself before I could speak, shoving me towards the door. "Now go start getting ready."

* * *

Several hours later, very bored and very drunk (and I mean **very** drunk) I spotted Harry across the Great Hall. 

I felt the familiar temptation to go over and talk to him but, like usual, I repressed it, instead choosing to watch him.

_He's so beautiful_ I mused inwardly, looking at him talking animatedly to Finnigan.

Wait a minute. Were they . . .

I frowned, looking closer.

. . . flirting?

I felt my hands curling into fists and I dug my nails into my palms to stop me going over there and beating someone to death.

_You have no right to do this. You have no right to be jealous._ I chanted in my head.

My body stiffened as Finnigan leaned forward and kissed him gently. And Harry didn't exactly push him off.

_Well fuck that. _

Jealousy shot through me and the world literally darkened as I saw it through a

reddish haze.

Before I could work out what I was doing I had shoved my way through the crowds and was at the other side of the Hall, shoving Finnigan away from Harry.

Harry looked from me to Finnigan (lying on the floor on top of at least three other people) in shock, mouth opening and closing soundlessly.

I grabbed his arm, yanking him towards the nearest exit.

"What are you doing?" he asked in confusion, almost falling over to keep up with me.

"We need to talk." I said grimly.

Halfway down the corridor I opened a door and shoved him into a empty, dark Charms classroom.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I hissed the second the door closed behind us.

Harry looked at me with wide, drunk eyes. "What do you think?" he slurred in response.

"If I knew then I wouldn't asking would I Potter?" I snapped.

Something in his eyes flickered and died. "Potter?" he repeated emptily. "Has it really come to that?"

"Yes. Yes it has." I said harshly. "Especially when you go and do things like that?"

"'Things like that'?" he exclaimed. "I was trying to move on! You don't want me so I'm trying to find somebody who will. I'm trying to move forward in my fucking pathetic life, isn't that what you wanted?"

I shifted uncomfortably. "Well yes. Yes it was – is." I corrected myself hastily, wincing at my Freudian slip.

"Well then." He turned away, fixing his eyes to the floor. "There's nothing to be discussing."

Slightly taken aback, I stared at him in confusion. "Go away." he said tiredly, closing his eyes. "Please. Go away."

"No."

"Why not?"

The question threw me and I stared at him for a moment. "I don't know." I admitted finally.

"It's hard enough as it is." He said heatedly. "Do you really think it's easy for me? Here I am trying to find someone else I can even feel a thousandth towards of what I felt of you. And there is nobody! The more I look and I look, the more aware I get that there is nobody in this world who compares to you. Nobody is ever going to fucking live up to you in my head. But I'm trying – God, I'm trying, and the last thing I need is you coming up to me and acting like you're jealous. Because all that does is nurture that tiny shred of hope that maybe you do still feel something towards me. I don't **need** you acting like you're jealous."

"Acting?" I exclaimed. "Acting like I'm jealous? There is no acting involved in this Potter. I **am **jealous Potter! Is that what you wanted to hear? I am so fucking jealous that I want to beat Finnigan's face in until he could never look at you again. For fuck's sake Potter – " I broke off. "It shows how much you fucking love me doesn't it – the second anything goes wrong you're running to Finnigan shoving your tongue down his throat. Strange behaviour considering you're supposed to be in love with me."

"I'm not your boyfriend Malfoy." He said coolly. "Or have you forgotten?"

"I think you're the one who's forgotten, Potter." I hissed back menacingly.

"You're mine."

He looked at me levelly. "Prove it."

I kissed him angrily, harshly, crushing my lips against his in an attempt to force him into submission. He melted into me, limbs like liquid fire, kissing back with equal fervour. Lips parting as I ruthlessly plundered his mouth with my tongue.

His arms came up around my neck, pulling me closer to him, fingers twisting in the hair at the nape of my neck.

I groaned as he gently tugged on my hair, feeling lust flood through my body. I scraped my teeth against his bottom lip in retaliation, feeling the shudders rip through his body with a feeling of satisfaction.

My tongue brushed against the roof of his mouth, eliciting a number of pleasant noises. I drank the muffled whimpers down.

I needed this. I wanted this. Needed. Wanted.

His leg slid through my parted thighs, rocking against me.

_Shit_, I thought dazedly, _if someone was to come in…_

And with a pang of lust I realised that that was part of the thrill.

His fingernails scraped down my side, reaching underneath the bottom of my pullover and finding the wide expanse of skin beneath it.

He stroked it in circles with his fingers, sending dizzying, spirals of lust through my body to my groin.

I thrust against him, hearing his moan through my ragged breathing. He tipped his head back, exposing his neck and my mouth gravitated towards it naturally, biting down softly on the pale, unblemished skin.

"Oh fuck." he groaned. "I can't – I can't keep – oh fuck. Oh fuck. Keep going, keep going. I need – oh shit – " he moaned as I bucked against him again. "Harder. Harder."

Shit. Shit. The sound of him saying things like that was an instant turn on and I felt myself start to become lost in pleasure.

And there I was pushing him up against the wall of the classroom, hearing his mewls of pleasure. Our bodies rising and falling hypnotically with each thrust, melding together with the slick, slippery heat.

A flare of white-hot brilliance. A crescendo whose only accompaniment was his frenzied gasps for air.

I collapsed against him, dizzy, overcome with emotion, breathing so fast that the world disappeared into a haze.

One thing was for certain. I was never going to be able to concentrate in Charms again.

* * *

Thanks for reading!! 

Please review! It encourages me to write more quickly.

C


	16. Chapter 16

Hey everybody! I'm so so sorry that it took me so long to update (a year andfour monthsbut who's counting?). Real life combined with my sudden insecurity as a writer prevented me from even touching this fic (though I did think about it). Then all of a sudden today I thought – "No. I want to write it. I feel bad for not writing it. Let's write it". I just wanted to say thankyou SO MUCH to everybody who has reviewed/harassed me during my absence. It's because of you that I'm back. The guilt finally got too much for me to handle. Sorry to everybody because I can't reply to you all personally (that's not allowed anymore is it?). But thankyou again.

Without further ramble, here it is: Chapter 16 of In the End!

_Chapter 16_

**Harry POV**

A tap dancing hoard of hippogriffs woke me up. At least…it felt that way considering the relentless pounding in my temples. _What the hell?_

I frowned, trying to dredge up a few memories that might explain the pain in my head and the fact that my sheets were suddenly softer than they'd ever been. Unbelievably soft actually. I nuzzled into them. What were they made of? Where could I get some? Whose were they?

A rush of panic tingled to my toes. Oh shit. Whose were they? I attempted to open an eye. And retreated to the pillow quickly as my vision exploded. Oww, Fuck. That hurt! I barely held back a whimper – only even tried because imagine if it got out to Voldemort that my one weakness was none other than a hangover. Drinking shots with Voldy waiting for my impending death didn't sound like my idea of a good night out. Damn my only irresponsibly teenage irresponsibility. Well alright…not my _one_ weakness. The other was a bit more human, blonde and appealing.

I cursed inwardly. Though apparently even he wasn't a weakness that stopped me from giving into other things like a stupid drunken Irishman who I didn't even really _like_ anyway.

"Fuck," I managed, voice muffled but still sounding as though I'd eaten a bottle-worth of glass along with its alcoholic contents. Actually…probably more like a crate-worth because I was beginning to feel quite sick as well. Though that may be more to do with the fact that I'd slept with Seamus – Seamus bloody fucking –

"Already? You clearly aren't as hungover as I thought."

My eyes shot open and I sat up, feeling the bed lurch under me impressively, "Draco!" I squawked, pulling the sheet up to my neck and then lowering it again as I realised how stupid I looked.

"Harry," he acknowledged calmly from a chair nestling against the bed.

"Draco!" I repeated dumbly, meeting only blankness in my stupefied (sadly not literally) mind.

"Harry." Frowning now and quirking an eyebrow at me in a manner so _Draco_ that it did something strange to my stomach.

And it all rushed back to me. The charms classroom. The stumble back to Draco's room, alcohol and hormones combining in a particularly challenging…challenge. Unable to stop touching each other, fingers brushing against shoulder, stomach, cheek, lips until all I wanted to do was grab him, push him down on the floor and –

He coughed subtly and I wrenched my attention to him, trying to will the flush from my cheeks.

"You don't remember then?" He was staring at the floor, face impassive; eyes harder to read than they'd ever been before. It was hard to tell what he was feeling. The light from the window (how'd that happen? Weren't we underground?) was hitting him from the side and I got an eyeful of moody-head tilted-cheekbone outlining beauty. Christ…he was just…hot.

"Remember what?" I murmur, distracted by the sight of a bruise that looked remarkably like the shape of my teeth on the side of his neck.

There was a flash of anger? hurt? in his eyes and I hastily shook off the niggling desire to lick him. "Of course I remember," I reassured quickly, "How could I forget? I mean it was…" I trailed off, swallowing as the urge to lick him resurfaced a thousand times more potent.

"Yeah," he agreed softly, a smirk tilting the corners of his mouth, "it was, wasn't it?"

I nodded vacantly, suddenly very aware that, for the first time I was in Draco Malfoy's bedroom and I wasn't fighting this and he wasn't fighting this and we both wanted to –

"Wait," I said, alarmed by my own assumptions, "You aren't going to run away again are you?"

The reply was not immediately forthcoming so I launched in again, "Because I won't let you! Goddamn it Draco you can't keep doing this to me! Don't you get it? I want you. And it isn't fair – you can't keep leading me on like this. Well alright…" I said hurriedly, "you can…because frankly I'll take what I can get but – you can't!" Back on track, I raced, "And if it means that I have to go and face Voldemort now – this very moment I will!"

"Now?" he drawled, "don't you think you'd better put some clothes on first?"

Stunned off-kilter I stopped, unable to believe his response. That was, until his face dissolved into a grin. Confused, I made a series of faces at him (hopefully ones that related in some way to my feelings).

"Who ever said anything about running away?" he offered in response.

"Oh." Ten points to whoever can point to the sheepish Gryffindor in the room.

"You idiot," he said fondly with that lopsided smirk, "What – did you think I was going to shag you then dash out of here as fast as my aristocratic legs would carry me?"

Well…grab his broom and leave a few twigs behind in his haste but basically yeah.

"Contrary to popular belief I don't just want you for sex."

"But it's a part of our unique relationship that you enjoy and want to keep practising at, right?" I said hopefully.

"Let me rephrase," he replied huskily, "I don't want you _just_ for sex, but it's quite a good selling point."

"I thought I already had you sold."

"You do," he whispered, breath warm against my cheek, "I thought I made that fairly clear when I changed time, my allegiances and my Slytherin-only policy for you."

"Mm," I replied breathily, as his fingers brushed up and down my hip, "I think I need more convincing than that."

He scraped the skin in my inner thigh softly and I held back a groan, already hard.

"Convincing hm? I could be up for that," he looked down and smirked, "I see you already are."

His fingers brushed against me teasingly and a moan escaped my lips.

"That's right," he said softly, voice husky, "I want to hear exactly how convincing you find me." With that he licked a long teasing line up my throat and – as I opened my mouth to reply in an appropriately cutting manner – closed his hand around my erection.

"Gwaagckh," I said instead.

Needless to say…I found him fairly convincing.

* * *

**Draco POV**

There comes a point in life where you have to stop fighting the inevitable and just let it take its course. That was my new mantra anyway. One I repeatedly muttered under my breath whenever a pinprick of guilt surfaced. Not that this was as frequent as I'd anticipated due to the sheer enormity of Harry's –

_Wand?_ My brain finished somewhat unhelpfully for me. Unhelpfully only because it was quite a distracting thought to be having whilst in Snape's office. I shifted guiltily in my seat, trying to pretend that I wasn't thinking about the fact that Harry Potter was –

_Hung like a donkey_.

I coughed and Snape narrowed his eyes at me. I offered a weak smile, readying myself for telling him the inevitable. And that would be that Harry and I are together, not the size of his –

"Is there something the matter Draco?"

"Matter? No. Of course not," I managed to stutter out, "Why would anything be the matter? I wasn't thinking about anything."

Snape's eyes tapered even more and I squirmed beneath his gaze. "I don't think I've heard such ineloquent rambling since the last cursed time I was required to have a conversation with Potter."

"Really?" I asked, heart thudding, "How nice."

Arms folded, he glowered. "Bearing that fact in mind, is there anything you need to tell me?"

"Tell you? No. Sir." Technically I didn't _need_ to tell him anything. I had been planning on it yes, but suddenly it seemed like a very bad idea. As did the fact that I'd just called him '_sir_'. What was I doing? That was probably more of a giveaway than allowing Harry to spell out 'property of Harry Potter' in lovebites on my neck. And the last thing I wanted right now was to let Snape know. Having only just come to terms with the idea of allowing the relationship myself, I could do without Snape's pessimistic (because let's face it – he would be) ranting on the matter.

"Is that so?" he frowned, "You do realise of course, Mr Malfoy," (I winced), "that when I told you to go to the party and flirt with a sickeningly attractive boy to make Potter jealous, I did not in fact mean go to the party and watch Potter flirt with a Gryffindor idiot you are worth a thousand of and then go mad with jealousy yourself?"

"I do realise that. Sir," I added for good measure.

"Then would you care to explain to me why that did happen and why, you subsequently _dragged_ Potter from the room and did not return?"

"Not particularly," I said carefully, ready to dash from the room at the first sign of real danger. The man had been a Death Eater after all and just because I was his godson didn't mean I was safe if he found out exactly what Potter and I had done in the Charms room, and the corridor to Slytherin…and my bed…and…

"Not particularly?" He hissed.

I nodded tentatively.

"May I just take this opportunity to remind you that you are in fact supposed to be staying away from Potter so that both of you are not immediately murdered by Voldemort. That in fact, you are a spy and a _Death Eater_ and that fraternising with Potter in this way is going to get one, if not both, of you in serious trouble from which you will not be able to remove yourself."

Ooh Merlin there was that guilt resurfacing again.

"Accept the inevitable," I muttered reassuringly to myself, "Stop trying to fight fate."

"What was that Mr Malfoy?" Snape looked as though he was about to die of an apoplectic fit.

"My new mantra?" I offered.

He sat down heavily. And looked at me. And kept looking at me.

"What?" I asked petulantly.

"There are reasons I give you advice Draco."

"I know there are – "

"And I am glad to see that you have – as anticipated – ignored every shed of sensible guidance I gave you."

" – what?" I goggled.

Snape sent me a smug look.

"You mean you knew this was going to happen?"

He scoffed, "of course I knew. You've clearly been spending too much time with Potter's lot if you think for one moment I don't act in a premeditated way. I knew the second I told you to go to that party that no good could come of it – I knew that in that unfortunate emotional state you were in you wouldn't be able to resist Potter's attempts to irritate you and I knew that Potter would only be trying to irritate you so that you would snap and drag him away to some deserted classroom…" He looked at me meaningfully (there was meaning within the sneer anyway) and I gulped.

"You know about that?" I exclaimed, horrified.

"I know about everything Draco. Although for my own sanity I will pretend that I have no possible idea what you could be talking about and go back to extolling Potter's vices."

I stared at him blankly. "You mean – you don't mind?"

"Mind? You got what you wanted didn't you?"

I nodded, more confused than I'd been in a long time.

"Then why would I mind?" Snape sat back with a flourish.

I couldn't help myself. "Because you hate Harry and want him to suffer and me to lead a Potter-free existence?"

"I," Snape began, looking indignant, "just want you to be happy you ungrateful little brat."

Both touched and disturbed I stared at him.

He sniffed, "Of course there is the added bonus that I get to feed him slowly and torturously to all manner of beasts if he hurts you."

Reassured, I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Now run along and make the most of my dignity's sacrifice. And for Slytherin's sake get rid of that ridiculous grin."

I couldn't help it. I rather wanted to hug him but decided that as this whole thing had been far easier than I thought it would be there was no reason to make it difficult so close to the end.

"Thanks Severus," I said instead, still slightly more fuzzy happiness in my voice than would have made him happy.

He nodded stiffly in acknowledgement and turned back to the pile of papers on his desk, scowl still very much evident.

I let a fond smile cross my lips and stood and left the room, thanking the power that clearly was in the world somewhere, that I'd always had my godfather and always would.

* * *

"_There_ you are." Harry's voice broke into the silence of the furthest corner of the library I'd inhabited. 

Startled, I looked up to see him, flanked by Hermione and Weasley (in a manner that a year ago would have been an omen of several trips to see Madame Pomfrey but one that now didn't bother me).

"Hey," I greeted sleepily, moving a pile of books off the chair next to me so he could sit down.

He did so immediately, leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to my lips. Weasley made a small noise of protest and there was a noise that sounded suspiciously like Hermione's hand hitting his shoulder.

"Hey yourself," Harry replied, a silly grin on his face. The same one that I imagined was on my face too.

"Hey," I repeated, feeling slightly flushed.

He bit his lip, fingers moving and brushing gently over my nose and the curve of my cheek.

"You had dust on your nose," he muttered shyly at my startled look.

"Oh," I said dumbly, his closeness making me feel rather dizzy.

"Yeah."

Oh well. At least Harry sounded just as idiotic as me.

The stifling (sexual!) tension in the air hit my stomach and I drew in a sharp breath. Harry was leaning forward slowly, almost unconsciously and I let my eyes flutter shut as I felt the warmth of his breath fan across my face.

Only to be abruptly removed as someone coughed pointedly.

Hermione I assumed, as Weasley had his eyes very firmly screwed shut.

"Do you two have to do that here?" Weasley ground out, opening one eye when Hermione tugged on his sleeve.

"No," Harry drawled, in a manner so reminiscent of me that I blinked, "we _could_ go to Draco's room and do it on his bed instead."

"You can stay it's not bothering me," Weasley said quickly, the images clearly being too much for him.

"Good."

Hermione snickered and took a seat at the other side of the table, opening one of the books I'd scattered and leafing through it.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked me curiously, taking in the sheer number of volumes around me.

"Work."

"What kind?" He leaned closer, pressing his arm against mine.

I stretched into the touch, casually so I didn't offend Weasley's delicate sensibilities. Though he was so busy staring at Hermione I didn't think he'd notice. "Transfiguration essay."

He looked confused for a moment and then his face took on an expression of horror, "That's not in for days!"

I shrugged, rubbing my arm slightly against his, "Never to early to get a headstart."

"You sound like Hermione," Harry sounded slightly disgusted.

"Really? That's not what you were saying last night," I said teasingly, injecting as much innuendo into my voice as possible.

It worked. He flushed and darted a quick look across the table before leaning into me further and dropping his hand to my thigh. "Well last night I wasn't thinking straight."

"Hm. Well, left to me, you'll never think straight again."

"Is that a challenge?" he whispered breathily.

"It's a promise," I returned, mirroring his gesture and sliding my palm up his thigh.

"Hmm," his breathing jerked, "well what's to say I can trust your word? You are a Slytherin after all."

"Good point," I move my hand higher, "But isn't that what makes it exciting, Potter." I brushed my thumb over his crotch.

He whimpered, biting down on his lip in an attempt to keep the noise in. "And who says I want it to be exciting _Malfoy_?"

"Well," I drawled, "you haven't told me to stop yet have you?" I was rubbing him now through the rough denim of his jeans and he looked as though he wasn't going to be able to keep this conversation going for very long. "You're getting off on it, aren't you Potter? I bet you'd love it if I was to drop to my knees and suck you off right here, wouldn't you?"

Another whimper is my only response.

"If I took you in my mouth – so hot and wet – and licked every inch of you. I know how you like it Potter. I could get you off before they even realised I was gone."

"Oh shit – Malfoy – "

"Um…guys?" Hermione's voice broke in. I looked up. Her and Weasley were staring at us as though we'd gone mad. Which I supposed we had. I'd practically been about to give Harry a handjob in the library. I jerked my hand away as if I'd been burned, face turning red. Harry looked even more embarrassed if that was possible.

"Sorry," he muttered.

Weasley looked on the point of passing out through sheer horror. For once I could't blame him. If the tables had been turned I think I'd have vomited watching him and Hermione…ugh. Surprisingly it was him who spoke the first coherent sentence.

"Do you think maybe you guys should…" he waved a hand, "you know…go and…you know…"

Ok perhaps not _that_ coherent but I could have kissed him anyway. Could have. Didn't.

"Excellent idea." I declared, grabbing Harry's hand and my essay simultaneously. "Say goodbye to your friends Harry."

He barely manages to lift a hand before I whisk him out the library, planning exactly what I'm going to do to him the second I get him on a bed.

* * *

So there we go. That was it. Random, I know. It's un-beta-ed but hopefully I didn't do too many stupid things in it. Though I doubt that, as I am indeed myself and just wrote this and haven't read it through yet. Damn. 

Thanks for reading and please please review (even if only to say you're reading) because I need all the encouragement I'm going to get!


End file.
